


Superposition

by todxrxki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, au where literally everyone is in a band, background akiten, background kiyoyachi, background relationships to be added, background tsukkiyama - Freeform, kuroo is kind of an oblivious idiot, minor background ushioi, rated m for minor descriptions of sex and lots of language, set in the us pop punk/emo scene in the mid 2000s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 102,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todxrxki/pseuds/todxrxki
Summary: "Well, I bet I’ll be seeing more of you in the future then, huh? But hopefully soon it’ll be me watching you on stage," Tetsurou tells him.Something flickers across Kenma’s face - something like bright, childlike hope. “D’you actually think so?"“Call me crazy,” Tetsurou says, grinning a stupid grin that shows all his teeth, “but I’d be willing to bet on it." // Tetsurou Kuroo, the lead singer of alternative band Neko, meets Kenma Kozume, aspiring musician, at one of his shows, a meeting that sets into motion a series of events that change their lives - and the alternative music scene - forever. Or, the early 2000s pop punk band AU.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 387
Kudos: 1326
Collections: Haikyuu, My favorite haikyuu fics, Recommended KuroKen Fics





	1. Fate

_I don’t believe in fate_

_No psychic vision_

_But when things fall into place, superposition_

_In any universe, you are my dark star_

\-- Superposition, Young the Giant

.

Tetsurou Kuroo wakes up to the sound of someone groaning in the bunk above him. Annoyed, he sends a sharp, directed kick upwards and hisses, “What the fuck, dude?”

“I’m dying, asshole,” his bandmate Morisuke Yaku groans groggily. “Think someone poisoned the alcohol last night.”

“What would they want to poison your ugly ass for,” Tetsurou says. “You running a drug business on the side?”

Another thud. Tetsurou assumes it's Morisuke kicking the bed in protest. “Shut up. I feel like I might actually die, shit.” 

“You better get it together before tomorrow,” Tetsurou warns.

“I’ll live,” Morisuke says. Pauses. “Somehow.”

Tetsurou falls back into a restless sleep, but it’s not as though sleep comes easy on a cheap tour bus, surrounded by his bandmates and some of their crew members. Their bus has a constant disgusting smell to it: a mixture of body odor and human waste and moldy food. He’s never appreciated his old childhood bedroom back in New York so intensely before. 

When he wakes up again, he drags himself out of bed to find Morisuke sprawled out dramatically over the couches. “Dude,” he says.

“Don’t you dare say shit,” Morisuke says. “This is how I’m getting it together.”

“I think he’s photosynthesizing,” their third bandmate Nobuyuki Kai tells him, grinning. “He’s been lying there under the windows, not moving, for like half an hour now. Think he’s under the impression the sun’s gonna help him heal somehow.”

“Well, our show tonight is just gonna be fantastic,” Tetsurou grumbles, grabbing a box of cereal off of the shelf. “Sure everyone’s just gonna be thriving off Mori’s energy.”

“Dickhead,” is Morisuke’s response. “You’re the frontman, y’know. It’s your energy they’re s’posed to be looking out for. You can give them the show and I’ll fuckin’ tap on the drums like I always do.”

“Think he’s getting a little delusional,” Nobuyuki says sagely. “Maybe he really did get targeted by someone at the show last night.”

“Yeah, one of his ex-lovers,” Tetsurou says, which earns him a sock tossed at his head. 

“Wasn’t me who hooked up with some girl in a fucking Port-a-Potty last concert,” Morisuke retorts.

“Wasn’t me either. You’ve gotta stop believing every rumor you hear, y’know.”

“You’re full of shit, _y’know_.”

Tetsurou just smirks, shoving a spoonful of Raisin Bran into his mouth. He nearly chokes on the cardboard-like pieces, but reminds himself that it’d been on special, the cheapest cereal on the shelves. They’re saving money to be able to accomplish their dreams. It’ll all be worth it in the end, he tells himself.

The rest of the drive to Chicago is uneventful. Morisuke pretends he’s dying until they stop for shitty fast food and then suddenly he’s resurrected; Nobuyuki reads one of his weird ass gardening magazines; and Tetsurou whips out his chemistry textbook, like the nerd he’s well aware that is. God, if only his fangirls could see him now. He wonders if he’d lose all of his sexy badass appeal. 

When they finally make it to Chicago, Morisuke practically falls to the ground in gratefulness, emphatically saying that the bus itself was going to poison him and his last meal would’ve been fucking McDonald’s. Tetsurou whacks him in the back with his guitar. “We’ve got an hour to practice,” he says, “so get your ass in there.”

Tetsurou’s far past the point of nervousness now, he thinks as he takes the stage for yet another performance. The chants of his name interspersed with _Neko, Neko_ hardly even reach his ears. He loves performing, but it all feels the same to him these days - new city, same people, it seems like. The same old songs all over again. Regardless, there’s nothing to be done about it. He’ll just follow his usual strategy of faking it until he makes it. He smirks his signature smirk that makes all the girls swoon and tries to pack all of his energy into the show. It’s what his fans deserve, after all. 

His eyes scan the crowd, flicking from one end to the other. They all blur together - a sea of people turning into one homogenous blob. He has to wonder how it got this way, when in the beginning each new face was a thrill to the heart. Now he hardly recognizes anyone, and there’s never that thrill of excitement anymore.

And then, his eyes catch on one person, standing at the edge of the crowd. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, with a couple of strands escaping, floating around his face. There’s a tiny smile on his lips, the only indicator that he’s enjoying the concert, because he’s not jumping around and screaming like the other fans. His eyes, big and gold, suddenly land on Tetsurou, and Tetsurou quickly pulls his gaze away. He’s not completely sure why his gaze had been drawn to him, but his heart has started pumping again, far quicker than before.

After the show, after the encore and the chants of the crowd and the dragging himself off of the stage, sweat dripping down his face, only to get a towel hurled at him by Morisuke, Tetsurou decides to do his usual and heads out to the bar for a drink. However, he finds that there’s already someone seated at the bar, sipping away at a rum and coke. A quick glance tells him that it’s the guy he’d seen in the crowd. Tetsurou’s heart picks up again.

“You even old enough to drink?” Tetsurou says, unable to stop himself: as his band members have too often told him, he seems to have a penchant for being a dumbass.

The guy glances up, his eyes hardening into a withering glare. Despite the fact that the guy is half his size, Tetsurou almost shrinks away. “Yes,” he says slowly. “I’m twenty-one, actually.”

Only a year younger than Tetsurou. Tetsurou feels like a bit of an asshole, but can’t bring himself to apologize. Instead, he perches on the stool beside the guy and rattles off his order. Then, turning back to face him, he says, “So what brings you out here tonight?”

The guy just stares at him flatly again. “I’m here to see your band play.”

_Shit._ Tetsurou’s really trying for the Biggest Dumbass of the Century award, it seems. He fakes a smile and says, “You’re a fan?”

“Obviously,” the guy says, ducking behind his hair as though this admission is somehow embarrassing. “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t like your music.”

_Time for a quick subject change, then._ Tetsurou can’t help but wonder where the hell all his smooth conversational skills went. “What’s your name, then?”

“Kenma,” says the guy, and then, after a pause, “Kenma Kozume. And I already know your name, so no need to bother.”

“Of course,” Tetsurou says, giving his biggest charming smile. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Kenma rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips - the same tiny smile he’d seen while Kenma had been watching his band. It becomes obvious that he’s not going to reply to that, so Tetsurou changes gears yet again. “So how’d you hear about my band, then?”

“You’ve gotten pretty big in the scenes I’m a part of,” Kenma mumbles. “It’d be impossible not to hear about you.”

“Ah,” Tetsurou says with a nod. “You a musician, then?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says. “I mean, not really, not yet. But I… I’m trying to start up my own band. So maybe soon.”

“Your own band, huh?” Tetsurou puts his chin in his hand and examines Kenma. Smirking, he continues, “Lemme guess. You’re a bassist.”

Kenma gives a gentle shake of his head. “Not exactly,” he says. “I’m not great at instruments. I was thinking more… lead singer, actually.”

“Huh,” Tetsurou says. He takes in Kenma’s appearance again - with some work, he could definitely fit the role of lead singer, appearance-wise, at least. He’s got the somewhat edgy aesthetic down. However, he can’t imagine quiet, mumbling Kenma leading a band, screaming into the mic, charming audiences around the world. Still, for some reason… Tetsurou finds that he can’t quite count Kenma out yet. He’s sure there are people whose stage personas and actual personalities are very much at odds. So he gives Kenma an encouraging, “Well, I bet I’ll be seeing more of you in the future then, huh? But hopefully soon it’ll be me watching you on stage.”

There’s something that flickers across Kenma’s face - something like bright, childlike hope. His tone is as flat as ever as he says, “D’you actually think so?”, but Tetsurou knows that he’s a little more optimistic than before.

“Call me crazy,” Tetsurou says, grinning a stupid grin that shows all his teeth, “but I’d be willing to bet on it.”

Kenma turns away, but before he does, Tetsurou’s sure he sees the hint of a blush on Kenma’s cheeks. _Huh,_ he thinks. He can’t put his finger on why exactly, but he’s certain that there’s something special about Kenma Kozume, and he’s hoping he’ll be able to figure out what.

.

The rest of the tour flies by in the blink of an eye. Seven more cities, seven more crowds, and yet all of the crowds quickly fade to the back of his mind. He meets girls at the bar, flirts with them shamelessly, hooks up with a few, even offers to let one have ‘a tour of their bus’ - but unfortunately, Morisuke overhears him and drags him outside by his ear.

“Not on our bus,” he hisses. “Go to a fucking love hotel or something, asshole.”

Tetsurou grins. “I was gonna bring her to the city bus,” he says. “Give her a tour of the town.”

“You know that’s not what you were referring to.” Morisuke stares at him stonily. For someone who’s about half Tetsurou’s height, he’s incredibly imposing when he’s angry. “You weren’t like this in high school, so I’m not sure I get exactly what you’re looking for. But there are only 3 more shows. Keep it in your pants until then.”

Tetsurou slumps against the wall as he watches him go, feeling himself exhale slowly. He doesn’t know how to tell Morisuke that he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, either. He also doesn’t know how to say he doesn’t think he’ll find it in the places he’s been searching: in the backs of bars and in dirty bathrooms. 

He doesn’t want to say that only one person he’s met on this tour has left an impression on him, and that person is a boy in a dusty Chicago bar with big dreams that might very well never come true.

The tour ends, and Tetsurou finds himself back in his childhood home. There’s always something humbling about curling back up under the light blue sheets and staring at his ceiling, where he’d slathered posters of his favorite bands as motivators, reminders that his dreams were always possible, as long as he believed. All that bullshit they tell you as kids or whatever. He stares up at Billie Jo Armstrong’s expressionless face, as he has for years, and tells him, “I’m doing it too.”

Not that Billie Jo would give a fuck.

And not that he even really knows what he’s doing at this point. He’s playing his songs, performing on stage in front of fans like he’s always wanted to, and yet it’s faded into a sort of monotony - everything becoming a dark, bland shade of gray. Is this what it feels like to achieve your dreams, he wonders?

His dreams that night are restless. 

He spends his time at home listlessly playing music, trying to find the notes to create the songs in his mind. But the notes don’t come. The words stay jumbled inside of his head, nothing resembling a cohesive sentence. He manages to write a couple of lines, but nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that will get him remembered.

He calls Morisuke’s home line one night, his head hanging off the side of his bed. “Hey, wanna do me a favor?” he asks.

“No,” Morisuke says flatly.

“It’s important!” Tetsurou complains. “D’you want us to have a new album or what, man?”

“Fine,” Morisuke says. “What’s the fucking favor.”

“Can you break my heart?” Tetsurou says. “That seems to be great inspiration for all the other bands out there.”

“You’re an idiot,” Morisuke replies flatly. He pauses for a second, then says, “Your bedhead doesn’t make you look cool. It looks like you never learned how to use a hairbrush,” and then the line goes dead.

Tetsurou gapes at the beeping phone in his hand before he slams it back onto the receiver. It’s true that his words hurt, but it doesn’t have quite the same amount of impact as an actual heartbreak. Not that Tetsurou’s experienced one, anyways - no, not that he’s ever allowed himself to get close enough to anyone to experience one. He buries his head into his pillow and lets out a frustrated yell.

But then, a memory pokes at the back of his head - a boy with dark hair, peering up at him with those beautiful golden eyes as he talked about his dream of being a lead singer. Tetsurou frowns as his hand starts moving, almost without his conscious awareness, printing words onto the paper. _Met him by the bar/said he wants to be a star…._ He finishes an entire draft in half an hour, and then, staring at the words in front of him, feels his heart sink in his chest. 

He doesn’t know what it means, but he figures that if it helps him write his music, then it’s a good thing… right?

.

They get sent out on tour again before the new album releases, supposedly as a way to promote their new album. Tetsurou’s thrust back into the world of being admired, of everyone knowing his name, after city after city of the same old faces, the same old routine. He wakes and stares at the bottom of Morisuke’s bed, makes himself another bowl of cereal or fries an egg, plops down in front of the terrible quality, tiny TV, or whips out a book as the bus keeps driving on. When they get to the venue, he pushes himself through soundcheck, through listening to the openers, through their set, orders a drink at the bar, goes to sleep, rinses, and repeats. That is, until his routine is once again interrupted after his Chicago show, by a CD in a shiny red case being pushed into his hands.

Tetsurou looks up to see Kenma Kozume staring down at the ground, the strands of his hair falling into his face. Tetsurou looks down at the CD, and then up at Kenma’s face, feeling a smirk stretch his lips. “Eh, what’s this?”

“Well, I mean, you said you thought I could do it,” Kenma mumbles. “This is my band’s first EP. We aren’t signed or anything, but… I thought you might want to hear it.”

Tetsurou tightens his grip on the CD. A wave of - of _something_ rushes over him, hard and strong. Kenma had remembered their conversation, had kept thinking about it the same way he had. It’s ridiculous to be surprised by it, considering that Kenma had said he was a fan. It's inevitable that he’d feel that way about a conversation with his _idol_. 

“Of course I want to hear it,” Tetsurou says, putting the CD nicely into his jacket pocket and tilting his head back up. “So you managed to organize a band, then?”

“Yeah.” Kenma’s nose scrunches up, which Tetsurou doesn’t see many boys do and somehow finds adorable. “I managed to get three people to join - not exactly my first choices to be in a band with, but they get the job done. So. I guess I have a band now.”

Tetsurou feels his own face splitting into a grin - a genuine grin, not one he’d had to force, which feels strange. “What’s your band name, then?”

Kenma ducks his head, his cheeks reddening. “It’s kind of stupid,” he says. 

“Can’t be that stupid,” Tetsurou says. “We chose ours on a whim. Didn’t think it’d catch on, honestly.”

Kenma shakes his head. “Catfight,” he says, after a brief pause. “Our name is Catfight.”

Tetsurou stares at Kenma under the dim bar lights. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail again tonight, exposing the piercings all up and down his ears, and tonight he’s wearing a black jacket with ripped black jeans. He doesn’t look all that intimidating, but the energy he gives off makes him feel almost electric. _Kenma Kozume of Catfight,_ Tetsurou thinks. It seems right, somehow. Tetsurou can’t help thinking he’ll be hearing it a lot in the next few months.

His hands tighten on the CD case. “Okay. I’ll give it a listen, Kenma Kozume.”

Kenma lifts an eyebrow, his eyes flickering. “You remembered my name. I didn’t think you would.”

Tetsurou hums. “I remember all my fans’ names.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kenma says. 

Tetsurou laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I just got the feeling that you’re something special.”

“Well. Now I’m a little nervous I won’t live up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will,” Tetsurou says, and he means it.

That night, he curls up in his bed with his Walkman and pops the CD in. With his headphones in, he curls up as the sound of Kenma’s band overtakes him. It’s rough sounding, as any band’s first EP is, but it’s _good_ . More importantly, he falls in love with Kenma’s voice from the very first note. It’s soft and sweet but strong enough to be powerful and emotional enough to draw a reaction from him and all he can think is _this band is gonna make it. Kenma is gonna make it._

There’s a smug sense of satisfaction that dawns on him as he realizes that he’d been right all along. 

.

The next day, when they get to Columbus, Tetsurou makes a beeline for an empty coffee shop and whips out his reliable Nokia. He dials the second number on his speed dial. “Dude.”

“Duuuude,” comes the voice on the other end of the line. “Dude, it’s been forever! Where ya been, man? How’s the tour comin’? Hey, why the fuck haven’t you called me? I thought we were _friends_!”

“We are,” Tetsurou replies quickly, because he knows how intolerable his friend can become when he gets into one of his godforsaken emo modes. “Best friends, you know that. Tour’s just been busy as fuck, man. I know you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do!” Koutarou “Bo” Bokuto exclaims, his voice already significantly brighter. “Our tour’s busy as hell too! Ever since our song got kinda popular, a ton more people have been comin’! But I think it kinda makes Keiji nervous.”

“That’s why you’re the frontman, Bo. You gotta take some of the pressure off of him. Make it about you. You’re good at that.”

“I am, aren’t I?!” Koutarou exclaims, having not even registered it as an insult - it’s one of the main reasons that Tetsurou likes Koutarou; conversations with him always prove to be entertaining. “I gotta try harder, then. Get the crowds to love me so they don't even focus on Keiji.”

“Sure it won’t be too hard. Hey, listen, I got a favor to ask you.”

“Oh, s’that why you called? Here I thought you were just callin’ to catch up.”

“No, course that's not the only reason. I was planning to call anyways,” Tetsurou lies. “It’s just good timing. But you’ve got connections with your label, don’t ya?” 

“You could say that,” Koutarou says proudly. 

“So there’s this guy,” Tetsurou begins. “I saw him at the crowd at my Chicago show last year and he told me he wanted to start a band, be a lead singer. Got good vibes from him even back then. And then last night he showed up at the Chicago show again. But this time, he gave me his band’s first EP, and it’s... “ Tetsurou exhales. “It’s really good. Fucking fantastic. I mean, it’s rough like EPs always are, but his voice, the music… You gotta hear it, dude.” 

“Damn.” Koutarou whistles. “That’s high praise comin’ from you. But don’t a lot of randoms give you their mixtapes? What made this guy different?”

Tetsurou leans back in his chair, his eyes unfocused as he thinks. “It’s just a feeling. You ever meet someone and you just kind of know that they’ll be something? I got that feeling with him. And boy, was I ever right.”

“Ha, yeah! I got a feeling kinda like that when I first met Keiji. And, y’know, I was totally fuckin’ right. He’s the best lead singer ever.”

Tetsurou exhales. “Okay. Can I send you this EP, then?”

“Yeah, 'course!”

After some quick calculations, Tetsurou sighs. “Just gotta mail it to your house, I guess,” he says. “Call me when you get it, yeah?” 

“I’m expecting big fuckin’ things, I hope you know,” Koutarou says. “Hearin’ the praise of the man Tetsurou Kuroo himself.”

“I promise you,” Tetsurou says confidently, “you won’t be disappointed.”

.

Koutarou calls him back a couple of days later, right before they’re about to start warming up for their Charlotte show. Morisuke gives him a pointed look, and Tetsurou throws his hands up. “Five minutes. I swear. It’s important.”

“This better not be one of your fuckin’ hookups,” Morisuke says.

“As important as those clearly are,” Tetsurou replies, ending him another patented Morisuke glare, “this is about work. Kind of. Mostly.”

“Fine. You have five minutes.”

“Enjoy your important work call!” Nobuyuki calls cheerily as Tetsurou leaves the room.

“Dude,” Koutarou says as soon as Tetsurou answers. “You were right.”

“I was, wasn’t I?”

“So right. His voice is killer.”

“So you’ll talk to the record execs?” 

“Hell yeah I will,” Koutarou says emphatically. “I can be convincing, can’t I?”

“Yeah, definitely. Super convincing.”

“I’ll get ‘em a record contract in no time,” Koutarou says, his voice bright on the other end. “I wanna talk to the dude, though. You got his number?”

“Uh…” Tetsurou says sheepishly. It suddenly dawns on him that it would’ve been a good idea, probably, to ask if Kenma had a cell phone, so that they could stay in contact somehow and he could let Kenma know what he’d thought of his EP. But unfortunately, Tetsurou hadn’t been thinking all that hard. Something about conversing with Kenma had occupied all his brain space. He groans. “No. I don’t.”

“Well, shit,” Koutarou says, sounding significantly more glum. 

“You’ve got connections!” Tetsurou says helplessly. “Ask around. See if anyone knows a Kenma Kozume, from Chicago.”

“I do have connections,” Koutarou says thoughtfully. “Okay, sure, I’ll try. He’s from Chicago too, huh? I knew I liked ‘im. Good people come from Chicago, you know.”

“Your entire band, you mean.”

“Yeah,” he says proudly. 

“Okay, okay, I gotta go before Morisuke kicks my ass. Let me know if you find him though, yeah? And keep me updated on how the whole record label thing goes.”

“Yeah, ‘course I will. Talk to ya later.”

When he walks back into practice, beaming from ear to ear, Morisuke scowls at him. “You were totally talking to a hookup.”

“I was _not_ ,” Tetsurou protests. “I was talking to Bo.”

“Oh, is there a difference?” Nobuyuki says, grinning.

“You’re both just jealous of our strong, manly, platonic bond,” Tetsurou says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just fucking practice already, Jesus.”

But as they start up rehearsal for the song - the song Tetsurou had kind of, a little bit written about Kenma - Tetsurou finds that his chest feels a little bit lighter for some reason.

.

“I found him!” Koutarou crows into the phone as soon as Tetsurou answers.

“Okay, okay, calm down, don’t destroy my eardrums,” Tetsurou says, holding the phone away from his ear. “You talked to Kenma?” 

“Hell yeah, I did,” Koutarou says, pride evident in his tone. “He’s so quiet, isn’t he? And he talks so softly! I almost can’t believe he’s the same person from the CD! But he was super happy when I told him he’d be getting a record deal - or at least I hope he was. It’s hard to tell.”

“Shit, man,” Tetsurou says, running a hand through his hair as he paces back and forth. He can’t help the little thrill of happiness that swells up in his throat. “You talked to the record label?”

“They didn’t need much convincing,” Koutarou replies. “But what little they did, I fought like hell for! Kenma’s band is gonna meet with them next Thursday.”

“Damn,” Tetsurou says appreciatively. “Thanks, dude. I appreciate it. Knew I could count on you.”

“Haha, course you can,” Koutarou says. “But it’s fine. You can return the favor one day when I've got my own record label and sign your band with us.”

Tetsurou tries to imagine a record label with harebrained Koutarou at the helms. The thought is almost hilarious, but he can’t bring himself to break Koutarou’s heart, so he decides it’s best to just agree. “Sure, man. If you manage to start your own record label, I’ll somehow convince Mori and Nobu to move Neko over.”

Koutarou laughs, and it’s oddly quiet for a moment before Koutarou says, “So, you gonna ask for Kenma’s fucking number or what?”

Tetsurou feels like he’s suffocating for a second. “W-What?” he stammers out.

“Dude, this was all because of you,” Koutarou informs him. “You’re the one that gave me his EP and everything. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you, and who knows, maybe you have shit you wanna say to him too.”

“Oh. Yeah, definitely,” Tetsurou says dumbly, because _why else would Koutarou give him Kenma’s number_? Why the fuck is he even freaking out like this in the first place? Kenma’s just another new face in the band scene, nothing to get so freaked out about.

He scribbles Kenma’s number down on a napkin and stares at the way the dark ink bleeds into the white paper. _He’s gonna make it,_ he thinks. Beyond anything, he knows that. 

.

He decides to call Kenma later that night, when they’re driving down the road towards yet another lonely state. However, when he gets up out of his bed, Morisuke pokes his head out of his bunk. “You’re calling someone again?” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “What, did you actually manage to get a fuckin’ girlfriend? Or you calling Bo again? Because in that case, I might actually believe the rumors about you two fucking.”

“People think we’re fucking?”

“The one guy from Dashboard Confessional asked me about it,” Morisuke says, looking unimpressed. 

“What the fuck did you say?”

“I said if you were, I hadn’t heard shit about it. But who knows? Maybe you’re sneakier than you seem.”

“As my fellow band member,” Tetsurou complains dramatically, “it’s supposed to be your duty to kill all the rumors going around about me!”

“S’not a rumor if it’s true,” Morisuke says sleepily. “And it sure as hell is starting to seem that way.”

Tetsurou groans loudly. “No, it’s not true. I don’t like dudes, assface. And anyways, I’m not even calling Bo right now. I’m just gonna call the lead singer of this new band.”

“New band?” Morisuke blinks. “Look at you going and bein’ all charitable. I almost feel bad for makin’ fun of you.”

Tetsurou sighs. “That’s why I’ve been talking to Bo so often. We… kind of helped him to get signed.”

“You _what_?” Morisuke blinks. “Dude, I’ve seen you take people’s mixtapes and throw them directly into the trash. What the fuck do you mean you helped a band get signed?”

“There was something different about this one,” Tetsurou says. “I dunno how to explain it.” _Don’t know if I can,_ he thinks with some chagrin _. It doesn’t even make any sense to me._

Morisuke shrugs. “Well,” he says with a smile that is far too terrifying, “I sure hope I get to meet this very special dude one of these days.”

Tetsurou gulps internally. _I’ll do my best to avoid that,_ he thinks to himself. 

He steps out of the bunk area and slowly types the numbers into his phone. _Hope he’s awake. But if not, guess I can just leave a message and ask him to call back, then live in agony till he does,_ Tetsurou thinks sardonically. But fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, someone picks up on the third ring. 

“Hello?” comes a sleepy voice that is unmistakably Kenma Kozume - soft, quiet, but with an intensity like no other. “Who is this?”

Tetsurou pauses, left scrambling somehow for the words to say. “Uh, this is Tetsurou. Kuroo.”

“Tetsurou,” Kenma says slowly, as though he’s processing, and then, “you got us signed.”

“I mean, Bo did that.”

“Koutarou Bokuto didn’t just happen to stumble upon our EP without someone giving it to him, and it wasn’t me. I’m assuming it had to be you.”

“...yeah, it was,” Tetsurou admits. “But I was right. Your EP was amazing. And I thought you deserved a chance. I just know that if I was in your position, I would’ve wanted someone to give me a chance.”

“It’s more than a chance,” Kenma says quietly. “It feels more like a dream. But, well, thank you. I appreciate it. And so does the rest of my band.”

“I can’t wait to hear the first album.”

“You’ll be hearing it soon enough,” Kenma says. “The label seemed very excited. So did Koutarou.” He pauses, as though he’s in shock. “I can’t believe I talked to Koutarou Bokuto.”

“He’s not all that,” Tetsurou says dismissively. “Their lead singer Keiji is the real brains of that band.”

“I figured. You know, Keiji’s always been my favorite member of Full Soul.”

“Who’s your favorite member of Neko, then?” 

“I’m not answering that,” Kenma says, which means it probably is Tetsurou, because Tetsurou gets the feeling that Kenma would be more than happy to tell him if it were Nobuyuki or Morisuke. It sends a bit of a thrill down his spine. 

They chat for a few more minutes about various bands in the scene and the process of recording an album, when Tetsurou realizes that, sadly, he should probably get to sleep. Before he hangs up, though, he says, “You can call me any time, you know. Uh, if you need advice or anything like that, or need someone to talk to about band stuff.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me,” Kenma says, voice soft and honest. Tetsurou wants to protest, to explain - but he doesn’t know what to say beyond that he gets the feeling that Kenma deserves it. He doesn’t know Kenma, after all. But somehow it feels like he does, or rather like he wants to. Kenma sighs, continues, “But I appreciate it nonetheless. And… I’ll probably take you up on that sometime.”

_I hope you do,_ Tetsurou wants to say. Instead, he bids Kenma goodbye and hangs up for the night, feeling the remnants of a smile stretch his lips.

.

“You got a band signed?” Nobuyuki, the perpetual early bird, interrogates him while Tetsurou is still pouring his cereal. 

“I didn’t do shit,” Tetsurou answers, trying to get his brain working enough to string a coherent line of words together. “You know as well as anyone that I have absolutely no power over anyone.”

“You have power over Bo,” Nobuyuki points out plainly. “And Bo has power within his label, and you worked with Bo to get a band signed.”

Tetsurou sighs, watching the Cheerios fall into his bowl, a rather depressing sight. “Yeah,” he says. “I did.”

“Good to know,” Nobuyuki says. There’s no hint of sarcasm or anything like that in his tone, but it’s hard to tell sometimes what Nobuyuki is actually thinking. For the one who’s widely regarded as the nicest of the bunch, Tetsurou still finds he’s a little bit terrified of Nobuyuki. “Can’t wait to hear their album, then, if you and Koutarou are both that fond of them.”

Nobuyuki talks like such an old man sometimes, Tetsurou thinks. But now both he and Morisuke are grinning at him, and he doesn’t want to even begin to process the implications of that. 

He wonders if it’s bad fashion to have a beer with breakfast. Whatever, he tells himself. Anything’s acceptable on tour. 

.

A couple of weeks later, once the tour is over and they’re back at home, Tetsurou is dancing with a random girl in a club when his phone starts ringing loudly in his pocket. _Should’ve turned it off,_ he thinks glumly, but knowing his luck, someone - the record label or their manager or Nobuyuki or Morisuke - someone important, would’ve tried to get in contact with him and gotten all pissy when they couldn’t. He takes out his phone, only to see Kenma’s name on the caller ID.

It takes him only a second to make a decision.

He glances up at the girl, mouths, “ _Sorry, this is important.”_ The girl nods, though there is a bit of confusion in her eyes. Tetsurou’s well known for being the type to finish everything he starts, to put it lightly.

“What’s goin’ on?” Tetsurou can hear the slur in his voice; he’s _at least_ four shots deep at this point in the night, but he figures - hopes - that Kenma won’t mind.

He can hear the defeat in Kenma’s voice as Kenma says, “I don’t know how to write an album.”

Tetsurou laughs, loud and bright in the night air around him. “Don’t worry, none of us do. We’re all just out here bullshittin’ our way through and hopin’ no one calls us on it.”

“You clearly managed to produce enough to put out two albums.” 

Tetsurou hears his loud laugh again and winces, hoping he’s not destroying Kenma’s eardrums - he’s always had a bit of a volume control problem after drinking. “You ever looked at the lyrics to those albums?”

“I like them,” Kenma says, tone half defensive, half embarrassed.

“I was gonna say they’re lyrical masterpieces,” Tetsurou says quickly. “But how I did it?” He sighs, lifting a hand to his chin in contemplation. “I really don’t even know. I just… always try to look for inspiration in the world around me, I guess. Try to find the good there that’s worth writing about.”

“A bit cheesy,” Kenma murmurs. His voice is soft and soothing when he talks. Tetsurou can’t help but dwell on how much he loves it, how he wishes he could listen to it forever, which is kind of a weird thought but not as much when you’re in a music community and fall in love with people’s voices all the time. “But I guess I could try it.” 

“The first album was the hardest for me,” Tetsurou says encouragingly. “But if you can make it through this, you’ll be fine. Writing sucks, though. Hah. Sometimes I wish I could just get my heart broken so I’d finally have something to fuckin’ write about.”

“Would it really be worth it?” Kenma asks, and then, “Actually, it probably would help my songwriting. Maybe I should just pretend someone broke my heart.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou replies. “Pretend it was like, the girl of your dreams or somethin’, and she went off and hooked up with some guy from your band.”

Kenma snorts. It’s a cute sound, Tetsurou thinks. “Wouldn’t that make me bitter at someone from my band?”

“Okay, fine, another band then,” Tetsurou amends. “Pretend Bo stole your girl.”

Kenma exhales sharply. “I can’t be bitter at Bo,” he protests. “Bo basically got us signed.”

“I thought I got you signed,” Tetsurou protests.

“Also, I don’t think Bo’s exactly the type to steal someone’s girl,” Kenma says, ignoring Tetsurou. 

Tetsurou sighs. “He’s not, you’re right - and I can’t see Keiji or Akinori doing it either. Hey, pretend it was Yukie.”

“If it was Yukie,” Kenma says flatly, “I think I’d just let her have my girl.”

  
Tetsurou laughs again, loud and free. Kenma’s funny, he thinks, which further confirms his suspicion that he’d made the right decision - Kenma would fit right in with the others on tour, the group that spends most of their time teasing each other and cracking jokes. He hasn’t known Kenma for very long, but there’s something about talking to him that feels comfortable, free, in a way that talking to very few people does. _I could see us being friends,_ Tetsurou thinks.

His chest feels weirdly warm and fuzzy at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> If you follow me on Twitter, you've probably heard a lot about this AU. It's been my pet project for the last couple of months, and I'm happy to say that I have the entire thing written already! That means if you follow this fic, you'll be getting regular updates every Friday.  
> I'm a little nervous about posting this fic, since I've poured my heart and soul into it and it's so incredibly self-indulgent, but I really hope you all like it!  
> If so, please leave a comment!! It'll encourage me to keep updating!! (Also, I'm thinking of making this a series & focusing on some other characters/relationships within it, so it'd encourage me to write those as well...)  
> Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Sea of Strangers

_Somewhere in between who I used to be_   
_And who I'll be tomorrow when the champagne blows my mind_   
_Thrills don't come for free, the price you pay for dreams_   
_In a sea of strangers, I can't find me anymore_

\- Life of the Party, All Time Low

A few weeks later, he gets a call from Koutarou. Koutarou’s clearly really fucking drunk, Tetsurou realizes within the first few minutes of talking to him. 

“Tetsuuuuuu,” Koutarou drawls, his volume even louder than usual. “Come to m’party!”

“Your party?” Tetsurou asks. “What party, man?”

“What party!” Koutarou shrieks. “My party!”

“Your party right now? Bo, you’re on tour. I can’t get to that party.”

“Nooooooo,” Koutarou whines. “Not this party right now. This is a stupid party. My birthday!” 

After a few more minutes of trying to decipher what the hell Koutarou’s talking about, there’s a lull in the conversation and then another voice cuts through the line. “Hello, Tetsurou. Koutarou is extremely drunk at present.”

“Hey, Keiji,” Tetsurou says with a laugh. “I could tell.”

“He wanted to invite you to his birthday party,” Keiji Akaashi, the lead singer of Koutarou’s band Full Soul, says. “Next Saturday, September 18th. Our tour will be over then, so we will be holding it in Chicago. I expect to see you there.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Tetsurou says nervously. 

“It is,” Keiji says with a sigh. “If you don’t show up, Koutarou will spend the entire time whining, and that’s something I’m not prepared to deal with. Therefore, you have to be there.”

“I’ll be there, I’ll be there,” Tetsurou promises. 

“Good. Also, the band you recommended to Koutarou will be performing.”

“The band I recommended to Koutarou?” Tetsurou says, thinking - had he recommended a band to Koutarou recently? What band?! And then it hits him. “Holy shit - Catfight?!”

“Yes, that one,” Keiji says. “Kenma, their lead singer, was very hesitant, but you know Koutarou - he was very determined to get them to perform for him, and he can be very convincing.” 

“Then I’ll definitely be there,” Tetsurou says again, more adamant this time. “I’ve got a fledgling band to support. You know, it was me that discovered them - Kenma gave me his mixtape after one of Neko’s shows, and I knew that he was going to be a motherfucking superstar.”

There’s a bit of skepticism in Keiji’s voice as he says, “I feel bad for Kenma.” 

“Damn, Keiji. That’s cold. Bo and I are just trying to support him, you know.”

Keiji groans. “See you next Saturday, Tetsurou,” he says, and then he hangs up the phone.

.

Tetsurou can’t deny that he’s a little bit eager at the idea of getting to see Kenma again. It’s been a while since he last saw Kenma in person, and he still gets the feeling that they could be good friends, so he’s looking forward to being able to see him and talk to him. He wakes up and gets ready at an absurdly early hour, then sits himself down in the car, texting Morisuke and Nobuyuki to get their asses to the car before he leaves them behind. 

The drive is long, 12 whole hours, but they make it there before the party starts at 8. Morisuke spends much of the drive insulting Tetsurou’s music and car decor choices, and Nobuyuki tries to talk about normal things, like sports and the current news, but quickly finds it to be useless as Morisuke attempts to turn everything into a debate (which, of course, Tetsurou immediately jumps into with vigor). Therefore, Nobuyuki ends up curling up in the backseat with his headphones in, ignoring Tetsurou and Morisuke’s spirited debate.

Once they get to the venue, they find Koutarou and Keiji waiting for them at the entrance. Koutarou tackles Tetsurou in a tight hug, then loops one arm around Morisuke’s shoulders and the other around Nobuyuki’s shoulders. “You guys!” he says, sounding a little tipsy already. “I knew you were gonna come! Keiji said he doubted it, but -”

“I said no such thing,” Keiji interrupts, frowning at Koutarou. “I said that it is a long drive to expect all three of them to come.” 

“But they did it, didn’t they Keiji?” Koutarou says, dropping his arms from Nobuyuki and Morisuke to ruffle Keiji’s hair. “They did it because they love meee!” 

“I suppose they must,” Keiji says tightly. He turns to the rest of them. “Welcome to the party. Please feel free to take off your jackets and bags and store them in the room to your left.”

Once they do so, Tetsurou immediately starts scanning the room. Keiji catches on pretty quickly. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tetsurou says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “...Kenma.”

“He got here just a few minutes before you did,” Keiji says. “I think he’s hiding over by the bar.”

Tetsurou hears Koutarou somewhere behind him yelling about body shots or some shit, but he decides to ignore him for the time being - he’ll make it up to him later. Instead, he makes a beeline for the corner of the room where, sure enough, he finds a lone figure sitting by the bar.

“Hey,” he starts to say, but then he freezes, unable to finish the sentence. Because it’s Kenma sitting there, definitely - it’s his frame, his long hair, but his hair is now _blonde._ Like, bottle blonde. And… holy shit.

Kenma turns around to look at him, his golden eyes somehow even more prominent now against the soft yellow of his hair. “Tetsurou,” he says in acknowledgment.

“Y-your hair,” Tetsurou stammers out, still frozen in place. “You dyed it?” 

“Yeah,” Kenma says. “Once we got signed.” He sighs. “One of my band members - Taketora, you’ll meet him tonight, probably - he kept telling me that with my long black hair, I looked like the girl from _The Ring._ ” 

“You could’ve just cut your hair,” Tetsurou points out, though he winces as he says it. The idea of Kenma with short hair feels wrong somehow. 

Kenma shakes his head vehemently. “No. I don’t want to be able to see that much.”

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow, leaning against the bar. “You don’t want to be able to see?”

“I don’t like when my field of vision is too wide,” Kenma explains, gazing up at Tetsurou through two pieces of shiny hair. “It makes me nervous. So I figured dyeing it was the next best solution.”

“Well, you don’t look like Samara anymore,” Tetsurou says, and then cringes. “I mean, not that you ever looked like her. Your hair looked fine before. But if that’s what you were trying to avoid, then it worked.”

Kenma gives him an amused glance. “I just didn’t want to stand out.”

Tetsurou snorts. “You thought the way not to stand out was to dye your hair blonde?”

Kenma scowls, then motions around the room. “I mean, look around. Half of the people in this room have dyed hair. Honestly, I think it helps me blend in more.”

Kenma has a point there, Tetsurou thinks as he glances around. In any other environment, Kenma’s hair would be something that set him apart, made him stand out in a crowd. However, here, surrounded by people like Bo, with his gray spiky hair, Kenma just seems like any other band boy. 

Tetsurou’s about to change the subject, ask if he can buy Kenma a drink, when a hand falls on Kenma’s shoulder. “Kenmaaaaaa,” the person crows.

“Don’t touch me,” Kenma grumbles, shrugging the hand off. “I thought you were mingling.”

“I was, but now I'm here,” says the guy, emerging from behind Kenma. He has a dyed mohawk and a ferocious look in his eyes. “Hey, who’s this dude? Friend of yours, Ken?”

“My name’s not Ken,” Kenma says, “and I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about him before. Tetsurou Kuroo. Lead singer of Neko.”

“Oh, the dude whose songs you’re always listening to?” the guy says with interest. Kenma glares at him, but the guy steps forward anyways, offering a hand to Tetsurou. “Hey, I’m Taketora Yamamoto - Kenma’s favorite bandmate and Catfight’s lead guitarist! Which means I’m definitely the coolest member of Catfight.” 

Tetsurou gives his hand a firm shake, then looks to Kenma with question in his eyes. He had kind of expected Kenma’s bandmates to be similar to him, calm and quiet, but it seems that that’s not the case. And his confusion only increases when two more guys run up to him, wide eyed and tall, stopping on either side of Kenma.

“This party is so cool!” one of them shouts. “I think I just saw Ashlee Simpson!” 

“Yeah, I think I did too,” says the other. “You should’ve said something, Kenma! I would’ve worn a nicer outfit!” 

Kenma glares at them. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“How can you not know?” shrieks one of them. “Sometimes I think you don’t exist in this century at all.”

Kenma sighs in defeat. Turning back to Tetsurou, he says, “Two other members of my band and pains in my ass. Lev Haiba,” he jabs his thumb at the tall one with gray hair and green eyes, “and Sou Inuoka.” He points at the other one, also tall but with darker hair and eyes. “Rhythm guitarist and bassist, respectively. Guys, this is Tetsurou Kuroo, from Neko.”

“Oh,” Lev says, peering at Tetsurou with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you’re actually him.”

Tetsurou laughs. “In the flesh.”

“That’s so cool! I can’t believe you actually know him,” Sou says, his eyes equally as big. “You’re the guy that liked our music?”

“No thanks to either of you,” Kenma mumbles.

“My guitar work was the star of our EP,” Taketora boasts.

Kenma rubs at his temples. “Can you all find somewhere else to be? Go talk to that Amy Simpson or whoever.”

“It’s Ashlee,” Sou says. “And I don’t think she wants to talk to us.”

“I can’t imagine why. Just… please go. Leave me be. But if you see Shouhei, you can tell him to come over. It would be nice for Tetsurou to meet the only sane person in the band.”

Tetsurou grins as the three bound away, Taketora draping his arms over Sou and Lev as if he’s giving them some kind of advice. “Your band is full of energy,” he says with a shake of his head.

“I hate it,” Kenma says. “I’ve contemplated putting tranquilizers in their food.” 

“Seems a little unethical.”

“Them getting on my nerves all the time is unethical,” Kenma says. “Oh, they found Shouhei.”

Another guy, this one with short hair and big eyes, walks over to them. He gives Tetsurou a nod in greeting and then turns to Kenma. “What’s up? Who’s this?” he says, much more quietly than Lev, Sou, or Taketora.

“Tetsurou Kuroo,” Kenma says. “Tetsurou, this is our drummer, Shouhei Fukunaga.” 

“Cool,” Shouhei says. “Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Tetsurou says, thinking that Shouhei is much more the type of person he’d expect Kenma to be in a band with - calm and relaxed. “So, um - are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s fine,” Shouhei says. “There’s a lot of people here. Some of them look a little terrifying. And, uh, the birthday guy tried to hug me.”

Tetsurou snorts. “That’s Bo,” he says. “He does that. If you’re uncomfortable with it, you can tell him to fuck off, and he’ll listen. Probably.”

“S’fine,” Shouhei says with a shrug. “Didn’t bother me that much. It was just kinda surprising.” He glances off into the distance. “I’m gonna go walk around. Have fun, Kenma.”

Tetsurou turns back to Kenma. The corner of his mouth turns up. “So can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if it’s something not gross,” Kenma says. “No beer.”

“No beer,” Tetsurou promises, turning to the bartender. He figures that Koutarou will forgive him if he spends just a little more time with Kenma at Koutarou’s birthday party. After all, he thinks, sparing a glance at Koutarou, surrounded by his band members and various other people, Koutarou’s probably happy enough where he is.

.

Catfight’s performance that night is, for a brand new band, frankly pretty phenomenal. Tetsurou finds himself nodding along to the songs they perform, enchanted by Kenma’s voice. He crosses his arms across his chest, feeling content with his decisions.

Koutarou nudges him excitedly. “They’re really good,” he says. “I knew they were goin’ places, man.”

“Shut up,” Tetsurou says fondly, nudging him back. “I knew first.”

“Almost good enough to forgive ya for ditchin’ me at my own birthday party.”

“Man, I’ll hang out with you after their performance.”

“You gotta do fifteen shots to catch up to me!”

“You have _not_ taken fifteen shots. Keiji was over there; he’d never let you get that far.”

“Aw, maaaan, Keiji really fuckin’ sold me out! Okay, but you still gotta do three to make up for hangin’ out by the bar instead of gettin’ down and dirty with the rest of us!” 

“Deal. And I’ll consider doing body shots - though hopefully not off of you.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Tetsurou grins and shakes his head, turning back to the performance. He watches the way Kenma moves, the way the rest of his band seem to direct their energy towards Kenma, the way that Kenma doesn’t seem all that nervous when he’s up on stage, somehow. He grins up at Kenma, who’s up on the stage this time - a reversal of the first time he’d seen Kenma, down in the crowd while he’d been up on stage. He’d felt some sort of a draw to Kenma - the same draw he feels now as they make eye contact and Kenma’s mouth tilts slightly upwards.

Tetsurou feels more sure than ever that Kenma Kozume is going to go far.

.

Tetsurou wakes up on Koutarou’s couch the next day. Koutarou, who’s sitting next to him, elbows him lightly. “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit,” Tetsurou manages through a dry throat. He pushes himself up with his elbows. “Fuck, what did I do last night? Tell me it wasn’t anything too humiliating.”

Koutarou laughs. “You gave a pretty awful singing performance,” he says, “but at that point almost everyone had left. Uh, you did a lot of body shots off some random girls, and at one point I’m pretty sure you grinded on a dude.”

“I did what?!” Tetsurou groans. “Tell me it wasn’t you, man.” _Tell me it wasn’t Kenma,_ he thinks, and then wonders why Kenma was the first person to pop into his head. Probably because he’d spent a lot of the night before he’d gotten fucked up talking to Kenma, he assumes. 

“Nah,” Koutarou says easily. “Didn’t recognize the guy, so probably someone Keiji invited. But Morisuke and Nobuyuki thought it was fuckin’ hilarious. They got some pics to use as blackmail.”

“Shit, those assholes.” Tetsurou grips his head. “You got any Tylenol?”

“Yeah, in the bathroom,” Koutarou says. 

“Thanks,” Tetsurou bites out as he forces himself to his feet. He casts a look back at Koutarou. “How the fuck aren’t you hungover?”

“I got a better tolerance than you,” Koutarou boasts proudly, puffing out his chest. “Never wanna hear you call me a fuckin’ lightweight again.”

“God,” Tetsurou groans. He flips open his phone to see texts from a good amount of people, but most notably one from Kenma. _interesting night last night,_ Kenma says. _never knew you were that good at dancing. anyways, hope your hangover isn’t too bad today._

Tetsurou groans again. He sends off a quick _feel like death but thx for ur support. sorry u had to see me like that_ and prays to every god imaginable that Kenma doesn’t think less of him. Though it’s not like it’s a well-kept secret that Tetsurou Kuroo is a little bit of a party animal, especially when paired with the likes of Koutarou Bokuto, who only enhances his shenanigans.

He switches off his phone, decides to deal with the rest of the aftermath, including the inevitable bullying from his band members, another day. Today he’ll just curl up on Koutarou’s couch with a blanket and some Tylenol and watch some bad reality TV. 

.

Fortunately, at the beginning of their next tour, Tetsurou gets another call from Kenma - a small reassurance that Kenma doesn’t completely hate him.

“We’re going on tour with Full Soul,” Kenma says in lieu of a greeting.

“Hah, you are?” Tetsurou says, sitting down on the couch of their bus and cupping the phone closer to him. Morisuke just lifts an eyebrow at him and Nobuyuki grins. _Annoying asses,_ Tetsurou thinks, and sticks his tongue out at them. 

“Yeah,” Kenma says. “It’s our first time going on tour, but Bo insisted that we have to open for them, since it’s a milestone or whatever. I… I don’t know what to expect, I guess.”

Tetsurou runs a hand through his hair, leaning back. “I mean, Full Soul’s definitely not the worst band to tour with. Bo’s, well, he’s Bo, but Akinori and Keiji are fairly calm, and Yukie’s usually pretty cool too. Plus they’ve been touring for like three years now, so they have a decent amount of experience. Don’t worry too much. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I guess,” Kenma says, still sounding doubtful. “Though admittedly it’s not Full Soul that I’m all that worried about. Having to spend months in a bus with Lev, Sou, and Tora all at once…”

“Oh god. I only met them once, but I completely fucking understand where you’re coming from.”

Kenma gives a little snort at that. “They’re awful,” he admits. “But they’re my… acquaintances, and they’re really good at music, so I keep them around. I just hope I don’t get arrested for premeditated murder by the end of the tour.” 

“I’ll bail you out if you do,” Tetsurou says. “Though I’m kinda running low on funds at the moment. Being a mildly successful pop punk band frontman isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Is that why you’re always eating cereal?” Kenma asks. 

“Who told you that?” Tetsurou splutters.

“It’s a rumor that your fans have been spreading,” Kenma says. “But I suspect one of your band members probably spread it, if it’s true.”

Tetsurou groans. “Yes, it’s true! But I don’t have money to be buying fancy ass omelettes for breakfast every day, y’know? I’m a starving artist.”

“Starving artists can have some degree of variety,” Kenma says. “But that does remind me that I am a little scared about tour food.”

“Alcohol and cigarettes, baby,” Tetsurou says cheerily.

“God.” Kenma sighs. “Tell me you don’t smoke.”

“Only on occasion,” Tetsurou says. “Oh shit, you know the boys from Flightless Birds? They smoke all the fuckin’ time. Stay away from their trailer if you don’t want secondhand lung cancer.”

“Noted,” Kenma says, and Tetsurou can’t help grinning all over again.

By the time he hangs up the phone, both Morisuke and Nobuyuki are staring at him, similarly curious looks on both of their faces. Tetsurou rolls his eyes. “Go ahead and say it. I know you’re dying to.”

“You were smiling a lot during that call,” Morisuke says smugly. “Kenma, huh?” 

“He’s a nice guy,” Nobuyuki acknowledges, diplomatic as ever. 

“The dude’s funny,” Tetsurou grumbles. “What, am I not allowed to have friends?”

“No,” Morisuke says, throwing his nasty feet into Tetsurou’s lap. “Just us.”

“Disgusting,” Tetsurou says, tossing one of his used napkins into Morisuke’s lap. “Eat shit.”

.

The next night, Tetsurou heads out to a nearby club after a night of post-show drinking. It’s there that he starts dancing with a girl, a girl with long brunette hair and bright blue eyes. She lures him in with a crook of his finger and Tetsurou thinks, _what the hell_ as he approaches her.

“You’re the lead singer of Neko,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “You a fan or something?” 

“Or something,” she says wryly, then laughs. “Kidding. You put on a pretty good show tonight. Think I might have to consider it.”

Tetsurou grins. “I’m glad that we were that convincing.” 

“I’m a little weak for hot guys in a band,” she admits.

“I’m a little weak for hot girls in a club,” Tetsurou says with a little bit of a chuckle. “Gonna give me your name, or am I just gonna have to refer to you as Hot Girl?”

She giggles. “It’s Bethany,” she says. “I actually am one of the managers for Strike Anywhere, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, so you’re on tour with us,” Tetsurou says. “I expect I’ll be seeing much more of you, then.”

“I’d hope so, at least,” Bethany says with a smirk. She moves closer to Tetsurou, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Wanna dance?”

Tetsurou is only human, so he readily agrees and moves towards the dance floor with Bethany. He tells himself he doesn’t think of anything else. It would be abnormal of him to be thinking of another guy when he’s dancing with a girl.

And it’s easy enough to forget everything else when he’s pressed close to someone else, someone who’s whispering words of praise, someone who’s attractive and _wants Tetsurou._

His other crises can wait: at least for the time being.

.

The next morning, when they tumble out of bed, Tetsurou realizes something. 

He’s getting tired of one night stands. 

The idea of getting into a relationship is getting more and more appealing: Nobuyuki has a girlfriend back home, and Tetsurou can’t help but envy the soft looks of contentment Nobuyuki seems to wear whenever he talks to her on the phone. So he decides to take a leap of faith and asks Bethany, who notably is not wearing a shirt at the time, “Hey, wanna date?”

Bethany blinks at him, seemingly half-asleep. Then she shrugs. “I mean, you’re hot and not the worst fuck I’ve ever had, so… why the fuck not, I guess.” She smiles.

Such is the highly romantic origin of Tetsurou Kuroo’s first relationship in years. 

He grins and kisses her on the cheek, then suddenly pulls back, his eyes wide. “Uh… what’s your last name, by the way?”

She laughs. “Walker,” she says. “It’s Walker.”

.

Morisuke and Nobuyuki spot him talking to Bethany after a show, then leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek before he returns to their bus. Both of them confront him as soon as he walks in. “What the fuck, Tetsu,” Morisuke says. “You kissed that girl.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Tetsurou says. “I’m allowed to do that.”

“ _Girl_ friend?” Morisuke says, at the same time Nobuyuki says, “When did that happen?”

“Last night,” Tetsurou says with a little smile. “We met in a club and we just… hit it off, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, if that’s not the most romantic story I’ve ever heard,” Morisuke snorts. “What, did you guys fuck and then you decided to ask for a relationship?”

“A man doesn’t kiss and tell,” Tetsurou says, crossing his arms.

“Holy shit. You fucking _did,_ ” Morisuke gasps.

“Let him live, Mori,” Nobuyuki says, but there’s a note of suspicion in the way that Nobuyuki’s eyes narrow. 

Tetsurou brushes it off. Those two don’t know anything about Tetsurou’s private relationships, after all. There’s no way they can judge something they don’t know shit about. He and Bethany are the only ones who know the whole story, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

.

And, for the rest of the tour, things with Bethany are great. 

They have sex, they go to the club together, and some nights, they’ll just sit around and watch movies together. It’s pretty much Tetsurou’s ideal relationship. She doesn’t even mind when he sneaks away for a bit to talk to Kenma. She just smiles at him when he comes back and says, “Who was that?”

“My, um… my friend,” Tetsurou says, because he’s not sure how else to describe Kenma. “I helped him get signed to Foundation, uh, the record label, actually.”

“You did? What’s his band name?”

“Catfight,” Tetsurou says. “But they’re new - they haven’t released their first album yet. So I’m sure you’ll be hearing more of them in the future.”

“Ah,” she says, putting out her cigarette and patting the bed beside her. “I’m sure if you discovered them, they must be really good. You have great taste.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tetsurou says, flashing a smile full of teeth and leaning over to kiss her. 

But, Tetsurou thinks as they lie in the aftermath, there are times like right now, when he’s lying beside Bethany and does not have a clue what to say. It feels like they’re a million miles apart, even though she’s right beside him, just an arm’s length away.

He figures it’s just a part of getting into a new relationship, though. After all, he barely knows Bethany. But they still have time, he thinks. All the time in the world.

(He pointedly tries not to think about the fact that the tour ends in just five short days.)

.

On the last day of the tour, Bethany wraps her arms around him and settles her head on his chest. “You’ll call me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tetsurou says. “You’re my damn girlfriend.”

Bethany laughs and kisses him on the mouth quickly. “I’ll come visit,” she says with a sly wink. 

“You’re always welcome,” Tetsurou says softly.

It feels weird once she leaves - like he should be more upset than he is. He’s upset, to an extent, but it’s more like a latent feeling of loneliness that’s only become more noticeable now that he’s alone. He attributes it instead to feeling sad that his girlfriend is gone and immediately takes out his phone to fire off a text: _hope ur drive home is safe. miss u already._

Somehow, it feels like he’s faking. _It’ll get better,_ he tells himself. He’ll talk to her more and discover all the little things about her and slowly he’ll begin to fall for her. And finally, he’ll understand what all the stupid cheesy love songs are about. God, he wonders if his fans would kill him if he stepped away from the emo songs he usually writes to write cheesy little ballads. Probably.

Still, the thought of writing cheesy love songs for someone he loves, even serenading them one day, brings a smile to his face, and he falls asleep peacefully that night. 

.

However, just a week or so later, Koutarou’s calling Tetsurou up again. “Got an opportunity for you,” he says. “Come play a show with us and Catfight.”

“You got it,” Tetsurou says. He doesn’t need any more convincing than that.

And so, he finds himself face-to-face with Kenma Kozume once again. Kenma smiles at him when he sees him, a small smile that seems almost bashful. “Bo roped you into this too, I see,” he says. 

“He didn’t have to rope me in,” Tetsurou says with a wink. “He told me Catfight was playing, and I told him I was there.” Kenma’s cheeks heat up a little bit, and Tetsurou continues, “How was the tour? The part I didn’t hear about already, at least.”

“It was fine,” Kenma says. “Somehow I didn’t kill any members of my band, probably because I kept taking refuge on the Full Soul bus. You were right - they’re all pretty calm, except for Bo, of course, and Yukie when she has too much to drink. But Bo kept sneaking off to do whatever, so we’d end up hiding out in their bus.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Tetsurou says, grinning. “I’ll have to convince Bo to let me on the next tour.”

“I’ve told him not to allow you on the tour already,” cuts in another voice. Keiji walks up, crossing his arms. “Koutarou makes substantially worse decisions when you’re around.”

Tetsurou laughs. “Aw, c’mon, Keij, isn’t that the fun of tour?”

“No, and don’t call me that,” Keiji says. He turns to Kenma, his gaze softening. “I apologize for this guy in advance.” 

“I didn’t even do anything,” Tetsurou complains. “Besides, Kenma likes me. He’s a fan!” 

“He’s a fan of Full Soul too,” Keiji says, shaking his head. 

“S’fine, Keiji,” Kenma says, tilting his head. “He’s not bothering me.” He looks up and meets Tetsurou’s eyes, his mouth curving up a little bit as he adds, “Yet.”

“Yet?!” Tetsurou crows. “I’d never bother anyone. Ever.”

Keiji shakes his head, but says, “Talk to you later, Kenma, Tetsurou,” and walks off in Koutarou’s general direction, probably because Koutarou is attempting to climb the rafters of the stage. Tetsurou turns back to Kenma. “You and Keiji seem pretty close.”

Kenma shrugs. “I think we’re alike in a lot of ways,” he says simply. “But he’s always been someone I’ve admired, so it’s nice to get the chance to talk to him.”

“Well shit, don’t I feel like chopped liver now.”

“I’m not going to tell you to your face that I admire you. That’s stupid and embarrassing.”

Tetsurou can’t help but beam at that unintentional admission. “So you do admire me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I got your meaning regardless,” Tetsurou says, elbowing him lightly. They make eye contact for a second, and Tetsurou can feel his breath catch in his throat. He’s still searching for the words to say when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks the caller ID; it's a call from Bethany. With a small smile, he says, “I gotta take this.”

Kenma raises his eyebrow. “Didn’t know you talked to people that aren’t at this venue.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Tetsurou says, shoving a hand in his pocket. He finds that he doesn’t want to tell Kenma about Bethany, which doesn’t make any sense. He’d told all of his other friends about her, no problem, but it feels different when he’s facing Kenma’s mildly judgmental stare. Still, he has to say something, so he makes himself say, “Uh, it’s my girlfriend, actually.”

“Girlfriend, huh,” Kenma repeats.

Tetsurou widens his eyes in faux hurt. “Hey, no need to sound so surprised! I’m perfectly capable of talking to girls, you know.” 

Kenma shakes his head. “I don’t doubt it. Go take your call.”

Tetsurou walks off, suddenly not really wanting to talk to Bethany all that much when he has all these friends at the venue. But he does - he starts up a conversation about the show tonight, telling her that none of the managers here even begin to compare to her, which she snorts at and dismisses as nonsense. It’s a cute, flirty conversation, and Tetsurou feels a little lighter after it, but it still doesn’t feel _right. Give it more time,_ he tells himself. _You’re being a hopeless romantic. Not everyone clicks from the very beginning. Relationships take work._

He makes his way back to where Kenma is, but finds Kenma’s attention is on something else altogether. Tetsurou follows Kenma’s gaze to find Morisuke - flanked by a very eager looking Lev Haiba.

“Lev really likes Morisuke,” Kenma says, as though he’s answering a question Tetsurou hasn’t even asked yet. “He thinks drummers are really cool. Kind of wanted to be one, but he’s too tall, I think. His limbs would hit the drums.”

Tetsurou has to laugh at that. “God, wouldn’t that be something. Morisuke doesn’t seem too fond of Lev, though.”

“I don’t think he is,” Kenma says. “And I’m sorry to your bandmate, but I’m just glad Lev is bothering someone who’s not me.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Tetsurou says. “Believe me, Morisuke deserves to fucking suffer a little bit.”

“Hey, guys!” comes a loud voice from behind them. Tetsurou jumps a little, then turns around to see that Koutarou has joined them, beaming from ear to ear. “This is gonna be the coolset concert in the entire fuckin’ world tonight. Like, this is the dream lineup right here! Neko, Catfight, Full Soul - what more could ya ask for?!”

“A band with a full album out,” Kenma says quietly.

Koutarou grins, whacking Kenma on the back. “You’ll have a full album out soon enough, I hear!”

“Early next year,” Kenma confirms. “If I don’t have a breakdown before then.”

There’s something about the discussion that sends a chill down Tetsurou’s spine; Tetsurou assumes that it’s the reminder that he’s going to have to put out another album soon. God, when did music, which had once been so fun, come to feel like such a chore? He dreads the thought of having to sit down again and try to make an album that sounds like his others but is somehow different, somehow _better_ , an album that can satisfy his fans and the critics simultaneously. He loves his band (most of the time); he loves touring, but the actual act of producing music has become a chore. He’d taken a cheap way out and written about Kenma for the last album - but surely everyone would get suspicious, _Kenma_ would get suspicious, if he wrote about Kenma again. And sure, he has a girlfriend to write about now, but he - 

He can’t imagine writing songs about her, much in the same way he couldn’t imagine writing songs about like, Koutarou or Morisuke. He’s not sure exactly what that means. But, again, he reminds himself that these things must come with time.

“Dude.” Koutarou’s voice cuts through his thoughts. He blinks to find Koutarou’s practically right in front of him, his big eyes peering into Tetsurou’s. “Earth to Tetsurou.”

“M’here,” Tetsurou manages, blinking again. “Damn, I’m tired as fuck. Guess I’m just falling asleep standing up.”

“Get your energy up, man,” Koutarou yells, smacking Tetsurou on the ass. Tetsurou punches him in the arm in return. 

“I’ve gotta go,” Kenma says, watching them with something like amusement - or judgment, maybe - in his eyes. “We’re on for soundcheck. Drink some coffee or something, Tetsurou.”

“Good luck,” Tetsurou says, flashing Kenma a thumbs up. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill it. Or you’d better, at least, because if you don’t, you’re gonna bring shame to both Bo and I.”

“Yes, because what I’m most concerned about is how much shame you and Bo feel,” Kenma says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “But thanks.” He gives a tiny wave as he walks off, and Tetsurou finds his eyes following Kenma as he walks away. 

“You worry too much,” Koutarou says, hitting him lightly on the arm. “Kenma’s gonna kill it!” 

“‘M not worried,” Tetsurou says. No, just as Koutarou had said, he’s sure that Kenma’s going to be amazing. And that sends a different kind of thrill down his spine - a thrill of excitement. 

.

Catfight is on first, just before Neko. Tetsurou spends the performance watching from the wings, a five-star view, if he can say so himself. He gets to see all of it at once - Lev and Taketora, jumping around with their guitars; Inuoka, trying to jump with his bass; the look of concentration on Shouhei’s face as he plays the drums, and, perhaps most importantly, Kenma - the way Kenma puts his heart into this performance, the way his hair falls out of his ponytail and clings to his face, the way that Kenma’s voice sounds nearly the same live as it does recorded, a true feat. As Catfight turns to exit the stage, Kenma meets his eyes, crooking an eyebrow as if to ask what Tetsurou’s doing there. Tetsurou raises an eyebrow back - _supporting you, of course,_ he wants to say. As Kenma walks by him, sweaty and clearly still mildly high off of the stage euphoria, he bumps his shoulder into Tetsurou’s arm. “Your turn,” he says, and it sounds like a challenge.

“Oh, believe me,” Tetsurou says, bumping Kenma back. “I was born ready.”

It’s the first time he’s touched Kenma, Tetsurou thinks as he prepares to take the stage. He’s a fairly touchy guy, so it’s inevitable that it would happen eventually, but it had been Kenma who’d initiated it - Kenma who he hasn’t seen touch pretty much anyone. And it had felt so natural. Well, maybe they had been destined to become friends, after all. 

As he takes the stage, he beams out into the audience and says, “Shit, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to follow that performance. Give it up for Catfight, everyone - and keep an eye out for their new album in the next couple of months.”

He can pretty much hear Kenma’s exasperated sigh from the wings, and it brings a smile to his face as he starts the performance. 

.

Tetsurou gives Bethany a quick call after the show, telling her that everything’s going great, yes, he misses her, yeah, he’ll see her soon, hopefully after this show he’ll have time to come down and visit. After he ends the call, he heads back into the bar to find that Kenma has already ingested a copious amount of alcohol. 

“Tetsurou!” Kenma says brightly, running up to his side, and Tetsurou thinks, _what fucking universe have I just woken up in?_ Never once in the months Tetsurou’s known Kenma has Kenma ever said anything this happily, much less Tetsurou’s name. 

“Hey, Kenma,” Tetsurou says, lightly draping an arm around Kenma’s shoulders because he’s fairly sure Kenma might fall if he doesn’t due to the staggering way he’s walking. “You seem like you’re having fun.”

“It’s pretty fun,” Kenma slurs, his gaze unfocused. “But I was hoping you’d show up.” 

“Well, I’m here now,” Tetsurou says, patting Kenma’s back. “Hey, who have you been hanging out with?”

Kenma scrunches up his nose. “Hmm. Bo, I think! And Yukie! And some of Bo’s friends. They really like to drink.”

“That they do,” Tetsurou says, making a mental note to punch Koutarou later. It’s fine to drag Tetsurou into his harebrained schemes to ingest as much alcohol as possible, but everything about Kenma screams lightweight - his tiny frame, the way he only drinks tiny sips of alcohol, and god, how little Kenma seems to eat. “You feeling okay, though?”

“Course,” Kenma says, resting his head on Tetsurou’s chest. Tetsurou’s heart seems to beat just a little bit faster, but he chalks it up to having never had Kenma in such close proximity before. “Hey, Tetsurou’s a long name, don’t you think?”

“Uh, I guess,” Tetsurou says, not completely sure where the line of conversation is leading.

“I should give you a nickname,” he says.

“Some people call me Tetsu,” Tetsurou offers.

“That’s boring,” Kenma says with a tiny pout, and Tetsurou feels like he’s choking all of a sudden. “Hmmmm. Tetsurou Kuroo. Tetsurou - _Kuro._ ” There’s a little mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Kuro! Like the Japanese word for black. You’re Kuro to me now.” 

“Sure,” Tetsurou says, because he’s one hundred percent certain that Kenma won’t remember it the next morning. “Kuro it is then. Hey, let’s go get you some water, okay?”

He drags Kenma over to the bar, where Keiji runs up to them, a panicked look on his face. Tetsurou shoots him a glare. “Where have you been?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Keiji hisses, crossing his arms. 

Tetsurou glances down at Kenma pointedly. “He was drinking with Bo and Yukie.”

“Oh, god,” Keiji groans.

“You two sound angry,” Kenma says cheerily. “Maybe you should drink some more!”

Keiji grabs a person walking by - Akinori, Tetsurou realizes. Keiji narrows his gaze at Akinori. “And here I thought you were a responsible man.”

“He seemed happy,” Akinori deadpans. “I wasn’t gonna get involved in that.”

Keiji’s frown becomes more pronounced. “Where are Koutarou and Yukie?”

Akinori jabs his thumb towards the corner. “I think they’re having some kind of fucked up competition,” he says. “They got two dozen doughnuts or something and they’re competing to see who can finish a dozen first while taking shots in between each one.”

Keiji sighs a long-suffering sigh, and Kenma turns his wide-eyed gaze to Keiji. “I wanna go see Koutarou and Yukie,” he proclaims, tugging at Keiji’s sleeve. “And drink s’more.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Keiji says stiffly, patting Kenma’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go talk to them, though. Why don’t you stay with Tetsurou?”

Kenma’s gaze falls back on Tetsurou, and he smiles. “Okay,” he says contently, grabbing on to Tetsurou’s arm - and huh, it’s interesting; he’s never noticed how tiny Kenma’s hands are, but it’s all too obvious when his little hand is pressed against Tetsurou’s bicep. 

“No more drinking,” Tetsurou says. “Why don’t we go lay down for a little bit?”

“Hmm,” Kenma says, his nose crinkling up as though he’s trying to decide or something. He gives a tiny nod. “Okay. I’ll stick with you, Kuro.”

_He hasn’t forgotten yet,_ Tetsurou thinks, shaking his head. Kenma reaches out and takes Tetsurou’s hand, and _holy shit,_ he’s really clingy when he’s drunk, Tetsurou thinks. Kenma’s hand feels even smaller when it’s being encased in Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou very determinedly doesn’t dwell on that fact. Instead, he leads Kenma to the hotel room that he’d booked for Morisuke, Nobuyuki, and himself. On the way, he passes Keiji, who’s scolding a very defeated looking Koutarou and a fairly unrepentant looking Yukie, and shakes his head. He manages to lead Kenma into his own bed, tucks him in, gives him a glass of water, and attempts to convince Kenma that he definitely does not need to go back out and look for Koutarou. Tetsurou isn’t generally too fond of drunk people, but Kenma certainly isn’t the most annoying drunk he’s dealt with. Once Kenma dozes off, Tetsurou’s about to sneak back out when Morisuke shows up.

“Party’s getting boring,” Morisuke says, and then, peering in - “Holy shit, tell me you didn’t fuck someone in our _shared_ hotel room.”

“God, I’m not that disgusting,” Tetsurou says, scowling. “It’s just Kenma. He got caught up in one of Bo and Yukie’s drinking games, so I brought him back to sleep it off.” 

“Ah. Poor kid.” 

“Gonna go yell at Bo. I’ll be back in, like, ten minutes. Don’t let Kenma choke in his sleep.”

“How come you’re not this caring for me when I’m drunk?”

“Cause you’re an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Fuck you,” Tetsurou says back, flipping Morisuke off even though he knows Morisuke can’t see it. He makes his way back to the party and makes an immediate beeline for Koutarou.

“Tetsuuuu,” Koutarou slurs. “Hey, I haven’ seen you that much tonight!” 

“I’ve been taking care of Kenma,” Tetsurou snaps. “Not everyone can hang with your crazy ass drinking games.”

“He didn’t look that drunk,” comments the girl beside him, raising a challenging eyebrow at Tetsurou. “Or I wouldn’t have let him keep drinkin’.”

“He could barely walk, Yukie.”

“Shit,” Yukie Shirofuku says, punctuated with a hiccup. “Sorry. I just kicked Bo’s ass in the donut game.”

“You did not!” Koutarou whines loudly. “You cheated!”

“I did not. How would I even be able to cheat in the first place? Where the hell would I put the doughnuts?”

“I dunno, maybe you have a secret trash can! You’re more cunnin’ than you look, you know.”

“Where would I even hide a trash can?!”

“This is a stupid conversation,” Tetsurou interrupts impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just. Don’t involve Kenma in your dumbass drinking games. That’s it.”

Yukie sighs. “Keiji already yelled at us,” she says. “It won’t happen again. I swear. I didn’t mean to get him that fucked up. Like I said before, he seemed fine, or I wouldn’t have let him keep goin’. Maybe it was like, a delayed reaction or somethin’.”

“Alcohol tends to work that way,” Tetsurou says wryly. “But thanks for the reassurance, Yukie. And for the record, Bo - you’re a fucking loser.”

“Yukie cheaaaaaated,” Koutarou wails, and Tetsurou just smirks at him, shaking his head. 

“You gonna haul this idiot’s ass back tonight?” he asks Yukie.

“I’ll probably force Akinori to help me,” Yukie responds. “Bo’s a whiny ass drunk. ‘M a little scared of Keiji at the moment, though, and he’s probably pissed at Bo anyways.”

“Yeah, Akinori’s your best bet.” He claps Yukie on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Unfortunately, Tetsurou thinks with a wry smile, he can’t exactly stick around. He’s got his own drunk to take care of. 

(He doesn’t dwell too much on the fact that he’d assumed responsibility for Kenma without even thinking about it. If he thinks about it, he’s sure he’ll start to find it weird or something.)

.

Tetsurou wakes up the next morning to find Kenma staring at him with wide eyes. “What the hell happened last night,” Kenma says, his voice barely a whisper.

Tetsurou groggily pushes himself up by his elbows. “Nothing that interesting,” he replies, his voice raspy. “You got talked into Bo’s stupid drinking games, so I drug you back here to make sure you didn’t die.”

A feeling of relief washes over Kenma’s face, one that Tetsurou doesn’t really understand. “Shit,” he says. “I guess I really am a lightweight.”

“You totally fuckin’ are,” Tetsurou says teasingly, poking Kenma in the arm. “And you’re a clingy drunk.”

Kenma huffs. “No way,” he says.

“You grabbed onto my hand and wouldn’t let go,” Tetsurou says.

“I did not.” There’s a blush on Kenma’s cheeks, and he’s refusing to meet Tetsurou’s eyes, which Tetsurou counts as a win.

“You did.”

“Did not.”

“Did.”

“Whatever,” Kenma says. “But, uh, thanks for not letting me die, I guess, Kuro.”

_Kuro_. Tetsurou had assumed that Kenma would forget all about that, but the nickname had fallen easily from his mouth, and Kenma doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with it. Tetsurou finds himself at a loss for words - that is, until Morisuke butts in.

“It’s eight fucking thirty AM and I’m hungover as hell,” he yells from the other end of the room. “I’m begging you to go back to sleep and shut the fuck up.”

Kenma glances down at the bed, looking a little mortified. “Uh, do you mind if I sleep here a little longer,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“S’fine,” Tetsurou says. “I’ve shared beds with more dudes than I can count. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a normal thing.”

“ _Tetsurou. Kuroo.”_

“I’m sleeping now, Mori. Goddamn.”

.

Kenma’s hungover as hell the next morning, so Tetsurou sends him off with some water and Tylenol before he leaves. As he clutches the water bottle, he looks up at Tetsurou and says, “Sorry I made you watch over me last night.”

“It’s fine,” Tetsurou says easily. “You’re not the worst drunk I’ve ever dealt with.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Kenma says dramatically, putting a hand to his head.

Tetsurou laughs. “That’s what they all say,” he says. “That is, until the next tour rolls around and the vodka shots suddenly look appetizing all over again.”

“I refuse,” Kenma says vehemently. “Also, if I ever party with Full Soul again, remind me to stick with Keiji and definitely not Koutarou or Yukie.”

“Probably for the best,” Tetsurou agrees.

This time, before Tetsurou leaves to head back home, he pulls Kenma into a hug. Kenma looks like he’s debating whether to pull away or not, but after a second, he relaxes into Tetsurou’s grip. Tetsurou can’t help but smile. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you on tour soon,” he says.

“Morisuke might murder Lev if we go on tour together,” Kenma says, and then considers. “Not that I’d mind, but it’d be troublesome to have to find a new rhythm guitarist.”

Tetsurou grins. “I’ll make Morisuke contain himself,” he informs him. “I’ll see you soon.”

Kenma’s mouth curves up. “Okay, Kuro,” he says, and Tetsurou’s jaw drops a little bit at the nickname.

He supposes that’s going to be a new thing, then. Interesting.

.

Tetsurou goes to visit Bethany to celebrate the coming of 2005. He figures that’s the thing to do, to be with your girlfriend to ring in the new year, and besides she’d invited him to come up and visit. He counts down the days excitedly, booking a flight to Los Angeles. Once he arrives, he hails a cab to her apartment and knocks on her door, holding a bouquet of flowers he’d precariously selected at the airport in his hands. 

It’s not Bethany that opens the door.

It’s a girl he doesn’t recognize. She looks Tetsurou from top to bottom, raises a pierced eyebrow, and says, “Who the fuck are you?”

Tetsurou slowly lowers the bouquet. “I’m, uh, looking for Bethany?”

“Course you are,” she says. “Kay, come on in. Bethany! Some guy is here for you.”

“Oh, Tetsu!” Bethany says, bounding out into the living room. “Abbs, this is my boyfriend, Tetsurou Kuroo. Remember? I told you about him.”

“Ah,” ‘Abbs’ says. “Yeah, I remember.”

It doesn’t exactly sound like she does. Tetsurou’s chest squeezes a little bit, but he tells himself that ‘Abbs’ could be forgetful, that Bethany has probably been talking about him all the time while he’s been gone.

“Tetsu, this is my roommate, Abby Ferguson,” Bethany introduces. “She’s a total fuckin’ airhead, so ignore her.”

“I am not,” Abby scowls. “I’m going out, Beth. Don’t need to hear any of your noises ever again.”

Bethany scowls back at her as she walks out. Tetsurou presents Bethany with the bouquet, beaming as she thanks him profusely and then tugs him close by his shirt collar to kiss him. They spend most of the afternoon getting hot and heavy, but once they’re worn out and are lying side by side in Bethany’s turquoise bed, Tetsurou says, “Uh, so what now?”

“Dunno,” Bethany says, tracing patterns into Tetsurou’s chest. “Um…”

“We could go get some food,” Tetsurou offers. 

“True,” Bethany says. “We could do that.” She jumps up, putting on her clothes quickly and shooting him a grin.

Bethany is - well, she’s great, Tetsurou thinks over the next few days he spends with her. She’s funny and lively and gorgeous. But somehow, it still feels like there’s a distance between them, and it doesn’t seem like it’s decreasing the more time they spend together. He finds that he’s become more boring than he imagines: he doesn’t know what to talk about beyond his band, his band members and the other band members that he knows, and a lot of the stories of shit he’s done with Koutarou make him come off as a complete fucking idiot. And Bethany talks, but she seems to run into the same problem where she doesn’t know what the hell to say, either. They just don’t have the familiarity that comes with time, Tetsurou thinks. And he keeps pestering her with questions, but feels they don’t get that much farther. 

They kiss at midnight, when you’re supposed to kiss the person you want to spend the rest of the year with, but Tetsurou finds he isn’t convinced.

And it doesn’t make any sense. Bethany is the kind of girl he’s supposed to want to date - gorgeous, funny, the kind of girl that his fans can’t find anything to hate about. If he doesn’t want to date her, who exactly is he going to want to date?! Is he destined to wade through life alone, or worse, to spend his life in unfulfilling relationships? It just doesn’t make any fucking sense at all. Given his experiences with his parents - with their constant fighting and eventual divorce - he’s always figured that he’d have poor luck in love, but this feels like something else altogether.

So, like the asshole he’s been known to be on occasion, he doesn’t break up with her. He leaves her place with a kiss, a promise to call, and an unfilled hole in his heart.

.

Near the end of January, Tetsurou gets another call from Kenma. He answers more eagerly than he’d like to admit. “Kuro,” Kenma says. “Our album’s releasing in a few weeks.”

“Oh shit,” Tetsurou says. “Fuckin’ finally. I’ve been waiting for this day for _years._ ”

Tetsurou can practically see Kenma rolling his eyes. “Like one year.”

“Years, Kenma,” Tetsurou emphasizes. 

“Anyways,” Kenma says, ignoring him altogether, “We’re having an album release party on February 7. Not by my choice - but Tora, Lev, and Sou thought it’d be a good idea, and then Bo heard about it and kind of took over. But you’re invited. If you can make it to Chicago, that is.”

“I’m doing a festival in the area a couple days before, so I’ll just extend my hotel stay. I’m sure Mori and Nobu won’t mind.”

“Okay,” Kenma says. “Good. I was kind of worried, since it was such late notice.”

“Of course I’d rearrange all my plans for my favorite band.”

“Shut up,” Kenma grumbles, and Tetsurou can’t help but laugh at the mild annoyance in his voice. 

The event definitely wasn’t planned by Kenma; that much is obvious when he walks into the venue to see the obnoxious lights and loud music playing and the absurd amount of color coordination: all in red and white, the colors of their album cover. The first person to spot him is Lev Haiba, probably because his head sticks up over the crowd and makes it easy to see people. He bounds over to Tetsurou like a racehorse. “Hey!” he crows. “Kenma was hoping you’d come, haha! But don’t tell him I said that. He’d probably kill me.”

“He probably would,” Tetsurou admits. “But I’ll consider not telling him.”

“Did Morisuke come?” Lev’s eyes are big and eager. 

Tetsurou can feel the smirk making its way onto his face. A good person would say no, that Morisuke had elected to skip the event because he wasn’t feeling good, and should Lev encounter him later in the night, make up some bullshit about his miraculous recovery. Unfortunately, Tetsurou Kuroo is not a good person.

“Yeah, he came with me,” Tetsurou says, jabbing his thumb over towards the corner. “He’s sitting on the couch over there. He’s been looking forward to seeing you all week.”

“Really? He said that?” Tetsurou can see Lev’s eyes light up, which just makes the whole thing immensely funnier. “Thank you, Tetsurou! I’m gonna go talk to him!” 

“You’re horrible,” comes the soft, quiet voice from behind him.

“Well, I’ve never claimed to be an ethical being.” Tetsurou turns around, slings an arm around Kenma’s shoulders. “Congratulations, Kenma. Hey, where’s my free copy for being your first fan?”

Kenma stares at him with dead eyes. “My mom was my first fan.”

“Does your mom even count?” Tetsurou says. “Isn’t everyone’s mom obligated to be their fan?”

“Not everyone,” Kenma says. “But I guess most people.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Tetsurou says automatically, and then cringes about having shared something so personal at such a random time, especially when it’s a celebration, for God’s sake. Kenma doesn’t flinch, though. Instead, he stares at Tetsurou evenly for a second, and then shrugs. 

“You’ve made a lot of fans all on your own,” Kenma says. “I think that’s impressive.”

Tetsurou shrugs, then bumps Kenma’s shoulder with his own. It’s a nice response, he thinks - not awkward, not pitying, but matter-of-fact. Kenma’s always been that kind of a person, he thinks, and grins. “Can’t wait to hear the album. You wrote a song about me, right?”

Kenma stares flatly at him. “A song about your rooster hair, maybe.”

“My what?” Tetsurou’s hands fly up to his hair. “It’s bedhead! I’ve never been able to stop it from looking like this. But I’ve come to embrace it as a part of my signature look. But hey, if we’re gonna talk about hair - when are you gonna dye yours again? Your roots are gonna start to show, y’know.”

“Hmm,” Kenma says, and then, “probably not.”

“Probably not?”

“I probably won’t dye it again.” Kenma shrugs. “It’s a lot of work to keep dyeing it over and over again.”

“Shit.” Tetsurou stares at him. “Your hair’s gonna turn into one of those pudding things. Y’know, the ones that are brown on top and yellow on the bottom.”

Kenma glares at him. It’s becoming somewhat of a pattern, Tetsurou thinks - but Kenma’s glares towards him, at least, don’t have any kind of heat behind him. He kind of likes the pattern of easy bickering they’ve fallen into. He rests his arm back on Kenma’s shoulders. “Bo said he was looking for you,” Tetsurou continues. “Said something about a new drinking game?” When Kenma’s eyes widen, Tetsurou cackles, tightening his arm. “Kidding, kidding. I haven’t seen Bo yet.”

“You should go mingle,” Kenma says, but it sounds slightly reluctant - like he doesn’t want Tetsurou to go.

“I will,” Tetsurou says, but he doesn’t move. “Let me just talk to the main attraction for a few more minutes.”

“Shut up,” Kenma says, but he doesn’t pull away.

.

Tetsurou’s phone starts ringing when he’s about to take his third shot and head back to the dance floor. He gives it a glance, notices that it’s Bethany calling, and sighs. “I gotta step out,” he says, patting Koutarou on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, yeah?”

“He’s a taken man now,” Morisuke says wryly. “He’s got no time for us single guys.”

“Tetsu has a girlfriend?” Yukie gasps. Tetsurou directs a glare Morisuke’s way, but Morisuke just sneers back. Tetsurou assumes he’d found out that Tetsurou had been the one to alert Lev of Morisuke’s location. Oops.

Tetsurou heads outside and leans back against the wall. “Hey, baby,” he says when he answers the phone.

“Tetsurou,” Bethany says, her voice sounding tight.

That can’t be good.

“What’s going on?” Tetsurou asks, feeling his voice rise in pitch. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I just…” Bethany hesitates, then sighs. “I don’t think it’s working out.” 

Well. Shit.

Tetsurou feels his breath catch in his throat as his heart sinks. His head starts buzzing at a high frequency as Bethany continues, “I met someone else, and I just, well, I don’t think it’d be fair to you to talk with someone else while we’re still together. It’s nothing against you, though. You’re a great guy. But - you’re always gone, and we don’t live anywhere close to each other anyways, and we don’t really have that much in common -”

She talks a little bit longer, but Tetsurou tunes her out, only saying “Okay” and “I understand” at the appropriate parts. She asks him if he has anything to say, and his numb brain can only come up with “Thanks for letting me know, I guess,” and, finally, “Goodbye.” 

He sits there for a few minutes after, trying to figure out exactly how he feels. He’s not upset, really. He’d seen this coming. She’d been right; they really didn’t have that much in common, and he’d never felt much of anything strongly romantic for her. So it’s good that she’d found someone else that she actually feels something for. But…

But it feels like everything’s coming apart all at once. It’s almost like Bethany dumping him is just the straw the broke the camel’s back. He doesn’t have a girlfriend; his band’s declining in popularity; he can’t find the inspiration to make music anymore. Generally, it feels like his life is falling apart. 

After a few minutes, he hears light footsteps, and then a quiet, “Kuro.”

“I’ll be back inside in a minute,” Tetsurou says tiredly. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Kenma doesn’t retreat. Tetsurou hadn’t really been expecting him to. Instead, Kenma sidles up next to him and sits down, resting his arms on his knees. He doesn’t speak. After a minute, Tetsurou feels awkward enough to offer, “I just got dumped.”

“Mm,” Kenma says. “I thought it might be something like that. I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Tetsurou says. “It’s your album release party. Go. Have fun.”

Kenma shakes his head. “It’s too loud in there,” he says. “I needed a break.”

Tetsurou supposes that’s a good enough excuse. “I think,” he says, feeling a little bit embarrassed but still having the strong urge to get it all out, “I think I’m a failure.”

“Hm,” Kenma says. What Tetsurou thinks most normal people would do is immediately tell Tetsurou he’s not a failure: that he’s a success, a famous guy with a lot of albums under his belt. Instead, Kenma acts like he’s actually considering it, and then he shakes his head. “No.”

“No?” 

“No,” Kenma repeats, as if that makes his answer less confusing somehow. “You’re only 23. You still have plenty of time. And anyways, you’ve already done a lot - much more than most people.” Kenma tears his gaze away from the wall, finally turning to meet Tetsurou’s eyes. “And you inspired me to start my own band. You inspire a lot of people. So I don’t see how you could think that’s a failure.”

Tetsurou can’t breathe for a second. Kenma’s stare is too intense, full of something that Tetsurou doesn’t recognize, but so adamant that Tetsurou has to believe him. He gives a slight nod, and then says, “I just… I feel like all the inspiration’s been squeezed out of me,” he confesses, slumping against the wall. “I don’t have shit to write any more. And I know people are expecting a lot of me, but - “

“You’re too constrained,” Kenma interrupts. He sounds clinical, logical as he continues, “You’ve been in Neko for years now, and you’ve built up a little bit of a following. People expect a certain thing of you at this point. And it’s a lot of pressure that impossible to live up to. Happens all the time.” 

Tetsurou laughs. “You sound like you’re the guy who’s released three albums,” he says, “not the guy who’s on his first.”

“I’ve done my research,” Kenma tells him. “But if you don’t want to get stuck here, maybe just try something totally different.”

“Something totally different?” Tetsurou repeats, blinking. _Something totally different._ He thinks about what he could do with music if he wasn’t constrained to Neko and what people expect out of Neko.

It’s certainly something to think about - something that makes him feel a little lighter inside. 

He sits for a minute or two longer, trying to get himself together. Then he inhales, a long, deep breath that expands his lungs and clears his head. He pushes himself back up to his feet, extending a hand to Kenma. “You coming back in?”

“I guess I should,” Kenma says, “before anyone sends out the FBI looking for me.” He takes Tetsurou’s hand to pull himself to his feet, looking up at him wryly, and Tetsurou thinks something very strange. He thinks that the girls are going to absolutely love Kenma - because Kenma Kozume is very attractive.

Well, it’s just him being objective. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he goes back into the party with Kenma by his side.

Koutarou rushes over to his side, bringing with him a big group: most of his band as well as Kenma’s and Tetsurou’s bands. “Hey, how was your chat with the girlfriend?” Koutarou says suggestively. Unfortunately for Tetsurou, Koutarou’s never been exactly good at reading the expressions on people’s faces. 

Morisuke takes one look at Tetsurou, though, and comes up beside him, patting him lightly on the arm. “Hell of a time for that kind of a phone call,” he says gruffly. “You can do better. I know it.” This prompts Lev popping up at his arm, yelling “What kind of phone call?!” and causing Morisuke to glare daggers at him. 

“It’s fine,” Tetsurou says after Nobuyuki pulls him into a tight bro hug. He forces a smile onto his face. After all, he’s heard that smiling is supposed to trigger a rush of serotonin or something that cheers you up, right? “It wasn’t that serious. Besides, this means I’m back on the market again. So if anyone’s interested…” he winks, “I hear rebound sex is the best kind of sex.”

“You’re gross,” Yukie says with a roll of her eyes. Tetsurou tries to ignore the way Kenma’s looking at him with a gaze that’s still full of both doubt and worry. He doesn’t like the feeling that someone can see through him so thoroughly. 

He pumps himself full of alcohol and throws himself back into dancing and mingling until they finally start playing the album over the speakers. Then, he sneaks away from the crowd, leaning back against the wall as the first notes of Catfight’s album - of _Kenma’s_ album, he can’t help but think - begin to play. Kenma’s voice is even more beautiful in this album than it had been on the EP. But it definitely sounds as though it’s high quality this time, in terms of production value. And Kenma’s voice sounds even more full of emotion as he sings: songs about his experiences with music, his fears, his friends, and even a few about heartbreak that Tetsurou wonders what the inspiration could have possibly been. After the album is about halfway through, Kenma walks up to him, standing next to him - silent for a second before he finally speaks. “I was wondering where you went,” he says.

“I wanted to listen in peace,” Tetsurou says. “I’m of the opinion that the first listen of an album is extremely important, so I had to give this one my full attention.”

“Hm,” Kenma says, but there’s a smile lurking under his typical flat expression. Tetsurou can see it in his eyes. “And what’s your full attention telling you?”

“Only confirming what I already knew,” Tetsurou replies. “You’re talented as hell, and you guys are gonna be the next big thing. Also, the album is fuckin’ amazing. If I was a critic, I’d give it a 9.5 out of 10.”

“What’s the .5 that’s preventing us from a perfect score?” Kenma asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Why, that I’m not featured on it, of course,” Tetsurou replies with a smirk.

Kenma rolls his eyes, but says, “Maybe I’ll let you have a feature in the future. If you’re not annoying about it.” 

Times like these, as Tetsurou beams down at Kenma and rests his arm back around Kenma’s shoulders like it’s the natural thing to do, Tetsurou almost wishes that Kenma had been born a girl. Dating Kenma would probably be just as natural. 

Unfortunately, Tetsurou’s fairly certain that he likes women, which makes Kenma a little bit out of the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for all of your support on this fic!! Each comment means so much to me since this is my baby fic :')  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I know Kuroo's a little bit terrible at relationships, but maybe he'll get there eventually...  
> Please let me know what you thought about this chapter! I love hearing your thoughts so much!!


	3. Bloodshot

And the hill's still left to climb

It's just so high and I'm so tired

Come on, look me in my bloodshot eyes

The clouds are all on fire

_ \- Bloodshot,  Jack’s Mannequin _

Koutarou spams his phone the next few days, sending texts with quotes from critics’ reviews of Catfight’s album.  _ “A breathtaking new voice,”  _ they say.  _ “An amazing new development in alternative rock. Looking forward to hearing more from them.” _

He calls Kotuarou to stop the spam. “Dude,” he says, “I get it. Catfight’s amazing. But we already knew that.”

“Yeahhhhh,” Koutarou cheers. “But this means we were right, man! And I fuckin’ love being right! But anyways, you know how I’ve been tryin’ to start up my own record label?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says slowly. “Did something happen?”

“I found my first band,” Koutarou says proudly. “They’re super fuckin’ talented! And they agreed to sign with my label as well as the main label!”

“Man,” Tetsurou complains, “you never asked me to join your label. What kind of friend are you, asshole?”   
  


“Your label would never let you do that! Anyways, this dude is like, a fuckin’ model or somethin’, and he’s got a great voice! His personality is kind of… well, it’s… I mean, I guess you’ll see when you meet him, but his band is really cool! Their music has kind of an old-school indie pop feel, and man, I dunno, I just think they’re gonna go places. I’ll send you their demo.”

“I’ll give it a listen,” Tetsurou promises, although knowing Koutarou, he’ll probably fuck up and completely forget to send it, which means he'll have a while to wait yet. “And… for the record, it was me who knew Catfight was gonna be a success first.”

“Yeah, but then you sent the EP to me, man!”

“But I was still first.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you.”

Tetsurou hangs up the phone after a bit more bickering, his head spinning. Koutarou has a band willing to sign with his new label. Kenma, along with the rest of Catfight, has released his new album. All of the other bands he knows are slowly becoming more popular, moving up in the world. And yet, it still feels as though Neko is just stagnant, like it’s been forever since they’ve moved forward. It feels like since the breakup with Bethany a couple of weeks ago that everything's become kind of... well, _bleh,_ for lack of a better word. Kenma’s words echo in his head again - _something totally different._ As a part of Neko, with fans who have stuck with them because of their sound, it seems impossible. But if he _wasn’t_ a part of Neko -- 

No. It seems impossible, too taboo to even think about. He won’t let himself go down that road. He doesn’t want to be that person, the one that ends up breaking up the band.

But it’s tempting to think about what he could do without the constraints of an already known band, a band he’d formed when he was  _ eighteen,  _ for fuck’s sake - eighteen, and without a clue in the world about what kind of music he’d want to play in the future. Twenty-three-year-old Tetsurou wants very different things than eighteen-year-old Tetsurou had. 

He lets himself daydream about it for a moment longer before he snaps himself out of it. He’s Tetsurou Kuroo, after all - Tetsurou Kuroo, lead singer of Neko. That’s what he’s known for. That’s what he’s all but pledged his loyalty to. 

And his daydreams are destroyed even further when he gets a call from a guy from the label, informing him that he’s going on tour in the months to come.

“Who with?” Tetsurou asks, feeling his breath catch in his throat.

“Full Soul, Powerhouse,” he says, and Tetsurou’s chest feels a little bit lighter. Touring with Koutarou is always a good time. and he’s known Powerhouse for forever. But then he says, “And this new band. Catfight, I think their name is?”

_ Catfight.  _ Tetsurou’s going on tour with Catfight. He can’t help the grin that makes its way onto his face, and as soon as the guy from the label hangs up, Tetsurou calls Kenma, loudly saying “We’re going on tour together!!” just seconds after Kenma’s answered.

“Kuro,” Kenma groans into the phone. “You’re gonna destroy my eardrums. Also, you’re late. Bo already called me - also destroying my eardrums, might I add - and then Keiji, so you’re third.”

“Okay, sue me for being excited,” Tetsurou says, more evenly this time. “It’s gonna be great, you’ll see. We’re gonna spend so much time together -”

“Oh, god.”

“- and have so much fuckin’ interband bonding you won’t know what hit you.”

“I’ll hide out in my band’s bus. Better yet - I can just ask Morisuke where the best hiding places are. I’m sure he’ll find some to hide from Lev.”

Tetsurou cackles. “Fuck, I forgot that we’d be shoving Lev and Morisuke together for months at a time. I’m sure Morisuke is contemplating disbanding Neko about right now.”

“You know, if you distract Lev with activities meant for a five-year-old child, it makes him slightly more tolerable,” Kenma remarks. 

“What? Bubbles? Legos?”

“I brought puzzles on the bus last tour just to try to get an hour of peace and quiet, honestly.”

“I’ll let Morisuke know,” Tetsurou says, and then, after a moment’s thought, adds, “...halfway through the tour.”

“You’re evil,” Kenma says, but it sounds less like a judgment and more like an approval. “I admit I’m a little bit terrified to go on tour with you guys and Full Soul at the same time, based on the stories I’ve heard from a half-drunk Bo and a more sober Keiji.”

“Bo and I have only been banned from  _ one  _ corner store, I’ll have you know.”

“And a supermarket. And a restaurant. And you’ve gotten pulled over by the police twice.”

“But never arrested, baby,” Tetsurou tells him gleefully. “It’ll be fun, I swear. Touring with us is an  _ experience.  _ I’ll make sure you have fun, I swear.”

“I doubt you can guarantee that. But… okay. I’ll see you soon, Kuro.”

Tetsurou doesn’t stop smiling for another hour after he hangs up the phone. He eats dinner with his father that night, who lifts a skeptical eyebrow at Tetsurou. “Tetsu,” he says gruffly, “did something happen?”

“What do you mean?” Tetsurou says in between stuffing bites into his mouth. 

“You seem happier than usual. Not that I’m complaining.”

He feels a little happier than usual, he thinks. At least for now. So he shrugs. “It feels like everything’s goin’ right, Dad. That’s all.”

“Hm,” his dad says. “That’s good.” Tetsurou waits, hopes his father will say more, wants to hear the words he’s been craving ever since he started the stupid band:  _ I’m proud of you. Your band is great. I’m glad to call you my son. _

That much is certainly too much to ask, though: it’s become clear over the past twenty-three years, and it’s clearer now more than ever, as Tetsurou’s father finishes his dinner, washes up his plate, and heads back to his work PC without another word to Tetsurou. Still, Tetsurou tells himself he won’t let it get him down. 

He’s headed out on tour again, after all. And this time with the majority of his favorite people.

.

“Your bus isn’t as big as I was expecting,” Kenma says as he steps onto the Neko bus.

“Whaaat?” Tetsurou responds, sending a wide-eyed stare that way. “We don’t live up to your expectations? I’ll call the label right now, tell ‘em that Kenma Kozume says our bus isn’t good enough and we need an upgrade.”

Kenma scowls at him in response. “Stop being annoying,” he says. 

“That’s my natural state,” Tetsurou replies. “Anyways, we’re not as luxurious as everyone seems to think we are. But I gotta tell ya, the pile of dirty socks in the corner is most definitely Morisuke’s.”

Kenma walks over to the pile slowly, his intense stare fixated on the pile of socks before he smirks and picks one up, gingerly holding it between two of his fingers. “I dunno,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “This one looks like it might be yours.” And then he chucks it directly at Tetsurou’s face. 

Tetsurou gags and panics, swatting desperately as he tries to get it out of his fucking mouth, hearing the melodious sound of Kenma’s quiet laughter in the background. Once he finally gets it off of his face, he levels Kenma with a dark glare. “You’re secretly evil,” he accuses.

Kenma shrugs. “I never claimed not to be.”

“I hope you know this is war, Kozume. And it’s gonna be a long two months.”

“I’ll live,” Kenma says, his tone almost challenging. This is a side to Kenma that Tetsurou hasn’t really seen before, Tetsurou thinks - and it seems to indicate that he’ll be seeing even more in the months to come. The thought brings a smile to his face.

Tetsurou collapses on the couch, tugging on Kenma’s wrist to have him sit down alongside him. “I figure we can get to know each other while everyone else is occupied,” he says.

Kenma raises an eyebrow at him. “What is this, an awkward first date?”

“If I’d known, I would’ve brought flowers,” Tetsurou says suggestively, and Kenma elbows him lightly. He grins and continues, “Nah, I just mean… well, we’ve known each other for almost two years now and I still feel like I don’t know that much about you.”

“I like being a mystery.”

“That’s no fun,” Tetsurou complains. "We'll start easy. What’s one thing I don’t know about you that most people know?”

“Well,” Kenma says. He pauses for a second, leaning back, and then, “I like video games.”

“Huh.” Tetsurou hadn’t known that, but it doesn’t come as much of a surprise, given Kenma’s personality and how his hands always look like they’re itching to be doing something. “What kind of video games?”

Kenma sighs, reaching into his pocket and taking out a long black thing that he passes to Tetsurou. “I’ve been playing this recently, the Playstation Portable. It was just released a couple of months ago.”

“No shit,” Tetsurou says, examining it. “It looks pretty fuckin’ high quality. Was it expensive?”

“Kinda,” Kenma says, “but gaming is like, my thing, I guess. It’s the best way to take my mind off of the band shit and everything. Plus I’ve trained Lev not to bother me while I’m playing.”

“Trained? Like a dog?”   
  


“More or less.”

Tetsurou laughs, finally finding the on switch to turn on the PSP. The screen lights up and Tetsurou asks, “So what game’s in here, anyways?”

“Metal Gear Acid,” Kenma replies. “It’s okay.”

“Oh, Metal Gear, I’ve heard of that one,” Tetsurou says absentmindedly. “Some guys back home said it was pretty badass. Hey, can I watch you play?”

There’s something weird in Kenma’s eyes as he looks up at Tetsurou, something that Tetsurou doesn’t understand. But then Kenma’s eyes fall and he gives a tiny nod. “I guess. If you want.”

“Hell yeah,” Tetsurou says, leaning slightly onto Kenma’s shoulder as he loads the game. 

Watching Kenma play is - well, it’s something else altogether. For one, Tetsurou’s never heard so many curse words fall from Kenma’s lips before, and all at once in a constant stream when he’s facing a harder level - “ _ fuckinshittyassholefuckshitdamn.”  _ But also, the look in Kenma’s eyes while he’s playing is even more interesting. It’s a different look to the light he sees when Kenma’s performing - a different kind of light altogether, one that shows a spark of interest and of thinking, like he’s strategizing. And finally, Tetsurou quickly realizes that Kenma Kozume is an amazing gamer. He beats the levels easily and quickly, like they’re not even a struggle for him.

Tetsurou says this out loud, and Kenma turns to look at him, wrinkling up his nose. “Is that a compliment?”

“Well, obviously,” Tetsurou says. “How wouldn’t it be?”

“People don’t really think of gaming as a skill,” Kenma replies. “More of a waste of time.”

“Well, I think of it as a skill and a talent,” Tetsurou says. “Which makes it unfair that you’re so talented at both singing and gaming. Leave some talent for the rest of us.”

“Shut up,” Kenma says, grimacing at him. His eyes are bright, though, and Tetsurou finds himself a little bit captivated by the light within them. He’s still staring into them a little bit stupidly when the door crashes open and Lev Haiba yells, “Kenma, of course you’re hiding and playing video games!”

“Is it really hiding if Kuro’s here with me?” Kenma mumbles. 

“Kuro?” Lev repeats, his eyes flickering over. “Oh, hey Tetsurou! Aw, you guys are good friends, that’s cute!” 

Morisuke shows up behind Kenma. Tetsurou gives him an accusatory glare -  _ why did you bring him to our fucking bus?  _ \- and Morisuke just grins back, an evil glint in his eyes. “Just showing Lev and the rest of Catfight here around,” Morisuke says. “They were very curious to see Neko’s bus.”

“All of you are banned from this bus,” Tetsurou says flatly. “Except Kenma, of course, and Shouhei.”

“Kenma’s an  _ of course _ , huh?” Morisuke mutters under his breath, as Taketora flocks to his side, asking “What the hell do you have against me?!” at an unbearably loud volume. 

Tetsurou glances over at Kenma, who looks somewhat amused at this turn of events, and can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips in return. 

.

“Hey,” Tetsurou says once he finally gets Kenma to open the door to Catfight’s bus a few days later.

Kenma glares at him in between rubbing at his eyes, a sleepy look on his face. “I was asleep,” he says flatly, stating the obvious.

Confused, Tetsurou narrows his eyes at Kenma. “Kenma, it’s…” He glances at his watch. “12:45 PM.”

“I’m not human until 2 PM,” Kenma replies. “At least.”

“Make an exception for today,” Tetsurou says. “I know this place with really fuckin’ good pie nearby, and I was kinda hoping we could get lunch or something.”

“Lunch,” Kenma repeats, his eyes narrowed, but then gives a slow nod. “If there’s pie, I guess it’s worth waking up for on my day off.” 

“You’ll live,” Tetsurou says. 

Kenma stares at him again with bleary eyes, but says “Give me five minutes,” and then shuts the door in his face. Tetsurou chuckles to himself, leaning back against the door, when Shouhei Fukunaga walks up, Taketora by his side. 

“Kenma not up yet?” he asks. 

“He is now,” Tetsurou tells him. “He was pissed that I woke him up, though. In my defense, I thought 1 fucking PM was a perfectly normal time for most people to be up.”

Taketora cackles. “‘M pretty sure he stays up until like, fuckin’ six AM some nights,” he says. “I could hear him clickin’ away in the bunk below me last night. Checked my phone -  _ four AM.  _ I don’t know what the hell is so interesting about those games that he’s gotta stay up all night.” 

“Explains why he’s so grumpy in the mornings,” Tetsurou says, grinning. “Almost thought he was gonna murder me for waking him up.”

“Well, if you’re gonna hang out with him all tour like you’ve been doing so far, you’d better get used to it,” Shouhei says with a shrug.

Tetsurou feels a little bit of shock run through him at the statement. Had he been hanging out with Kenma all the time? It’s only been a week or so, but it seems like Shouhei has a little bit of a point - the time that’s not spent with his band rehearsing or performing or sleeping, he’s spending time with Kenma. Even when he hangs out in a group, he tends to gravitate towards Kenma, almost like a moth drawn to a flame. They just get along well, he tells himself. It’s easy being around Kenma, simple. He likes their dynamic and how they bicker. He blinks, then says, “I guess.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Shouhei says, voice still low, “I’m not complaining or anything. It’s just... I’ve known Kenma for a while, and it’s hard for him to open up to new people. So the fact that you two have gotten so close this fast is impressive to me.”

“It took Kenma like a whole ass year to be able to be around me without running away!” Taketora crows, and then hesitates for a second. “Actually, he still runs away from me sometimes. Tells me I’m being too loud ‘n shit. But I can’t help it!” 

“You can help it,” says a scowling Kenma as he exits the bus. “Don’t say weird shit about me to Kuro, also,” he says, glaring a stinky glare at Taketora.

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything! It was Shouhei! Bitch at him instead for once!” Taketora yells, elbowing Kenma violently. Kenma looks like he’s torn between lunging at Taketora as an attack and running away, so Tetsurou quickly grabs hold of Kenma’s wrist. 

He raises his eyebrows at Taketora and Shouhei. “I’m taking this one to get some sugar before he actually commits second degree murder,” Tetsurou says, teasing in his tone. “Have fun, you guys.”

“Hahaha, thanks for taking him off our hands!” Taketora exclaims, and Tetsurou pulls Kenma off because he’s pretty sure that Kenma might actually murder someone if he stays there any longer. 

“You’re not a morning person,” Tetsurou observes. 

“Hm,” Kenma says. “I’m shocked you hadn’t picked up on that till now. There are very few things that make mornings worth it.”

“What makes mornings worth it, then?”

“Pie,” Kenma says after a moment’s consideration. “Sweets in general. Also, when I was a kid, video games. My parents bought me an NES back when it was released, but they’d always tell me not to stay up too late playing it. So instead of staying up late to play, I’d wake up at like, four, five AM. They couldn’t scold me then.”

Tetsurou snorts, giving him a light elbow in the side. “You did not.” When Kenma just nods, he snorts again, louder this time. “Oh my god. You must have been the brattiest kid.”

“I was an easy kid,” Kenma says. “I just liked video games. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I bet you never slept,” Tetsurou says. “In fact, I’m hearing now that you’re staying up until fuckin’ four AM. You can’t do that to yourself.”

“I can,” Kenma says. “What does it matter? I can just sleep until 1 PM the next day most days. Except,” he glares at Tetsurou, “when I get woken up.”

“Hey, in my defense, I thought it was a normal time for people to be up,” Tetsurou replies defensively. They continue on like that all the way to the restaurant, bickering and sharing stories, and Tetsurou finds that he can’t help but become even more excited for the rest of the tour. Weeks with Kenma for company, and of course Koutarou and Keiji as well as the other members of their band. It’s perfect - well, as close to perfect as a tour packed full of sweaty, smelly guys can be anyways.

The pie is just as good as Tetsurou had imagined, and Kenma seems to be very fond of it as well, judging by his expressions as he digs in. When they make it back to the bus, though, Wakatoshi Ushijima, the lead singer of Powerhouse, the fourth band on the tour, is standing by their bus awkwardly. 

Wakatoshi Ushijima is - well, he’s not exactly the most socially adept person that Tetsurou has ever met. He’s very formal in a lot of his interactions and sometimes is unintentionally offensive. But he’s fun to tease and really fucking talented. His deep voice, perfect for a sound that’s a little bit heavier, has earned his band a decent amount of attention in the two and a half years they’ve been involved in the scene. 

He gives Tetsurou a sharp nod as they approach. “Hello, Tetsurou, Kenma. How are you two doing today?”

“Good,” Tetsurou says, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Just enjoying the city on our day off, y’know? What have you been doing? Goin’ out looking for a girl?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Wakatoshi blanches, and Tetsurou can’t help but laugh. “No. Of course not. I am not interested in... such things. I came to look for you in hopes that you could help me out with a small problem I’ve been having.”

“Erectile dysfunction is a normal thing, Waka. Unfortunately I’m not a doctor, so I don’t think I can - “

“ _ Kuro _ ,” Kenma interrupts, digging his elbow into Tetsurou’s chest a little harder this time. He looks over at Wakatoshi. “What’s the problem, exactly?”

“My manager has been telling me that I am not emotional enough in my performance,” Wakatoshi replies in a monotone. “I do not know how to fix this problem. However, you two are able to display emotions on stage fairly well, so I was hoping to receive some advice on how to fix this problem.”

Tetsurou grins, throwing an arm around Wakatoshi’s shoulders and rubbing a hand through his hair. “Dude, you don’t have any problems showing emotions right now,” he comments, looking at the angry look on Wakatoshi’s face.

“I suppose,” Wakatoshi grits out, “I could think about you making fun of me, and that could motivate me to sing in an angrier manner.”

Kenma elbows Tetsurou again lightly, and then cuts in. “I mean, you have to have felt something while you were writing the songs, right? I try to connect to those emotions again. Remember the events I was thinking about when I wrote them, I guess.” He shifts awkwardly, not making eye contact with Wakatoshi.

Wakatoshi blinks. “That makes sense,” he says. “You are intelligent. I appreciate that.”

“Heyyy,” Tetsurou complains. “Are you implying that I’m not intelligent? I’ll have you know that I was a straight A student in high school.”

“Surprising,” Kenma comments mildly, though it doesn’t sound like he means it. Tetsurou still yelps and pokes him in the side as though he’s offended. 

“Of course you were,” Wakatoshi says, just as unconvincingly. He turns back to Kenma. “Please allow me to treat you to coffee in thanks for your advice. You are allowed to come also, Tetsurou, but you will have to pay for your own coffee.”

“How rude,” Tetsurou complains, but he goes anyways. And that’s how he ends up in a coffee shop with Wakatoshi and Kenma, all three of them sipping away - Kenma at a hot chocolate rather than a coffee, which isn’t at all surprising. It makes his heart a little warm to see how easily Kenma gets along with the other members of bands, as though he was always meant to be there. He’d definitely made the right decision.

Even if it means he has to pay for his own coffee.

.

“Never have I ever,” Koutarou pauses, tapping his finger on his chin. “Oh, I got it! Never have I ever pissed on a church.”

“Duuuude,” Tetsurou replies, glaring at him. “I didn’t fuckin’ know it was a church! I just thought it was like, a storehouse or somethin’, god.” He takes the shot anyways, because he’s always been a reliable man. 

“You peed on a church,” Kenma says flatly. “Oh my god.”

“He’s goin’ to hell,” Taketora chortles. 

“That is disgusting,” Wakatoshi says, while his bandmate, Satori Tendou, yells something along the lines of, “I’ll see you there, Tetsu!” 

“Someone else go,” Tetsurou moans, putting his head in his hands.

“Never have I ever,” Satori says, and then pauses, placing a hand on his chin. “Actually, I dunno. I’ve done almost everything. You all are just cowards! Okay, okay... never have I ever had a sexual fantasy about someone in this room.” He grins, bearing his teeth like a predator.

Tetsurou feels his eyebrows shoot up as he looks around the room. Koutarou hoots before he downs the shot all in one gulp, because Koutarou’s never given a shit about subtlety. Yukie shoots a warning glare before she takes the shot as well - it’s not enough to keep the rest of the room from going into an uproar, though. Keiji takes a shot next, making the whole room splutter, and Akinori makes a big show out of being the only one in their band not to drink. 

Morisuke says they’re all fucking disgusting; Nobuyuki smiles and shakes his head, saying he has a girlfriend. All of the members of Wakatoshi’s band abstain, save for one kid, Kenjirou, who takes a shot while blushing furiously. Taketora reaffirms his heterosexuality, causing Yukie to kick him, and Shouhei, Lev, and Sou all refuse. 

But then, finally, it’s Kenma’s turn, and Kenma, letting his hair fall into his face, takes the shot.

The room falls into chaos.

“Oh my god, Kenma!” Lev yells. “You had a sexual fantasy!? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I ever tell you that,” Kenma mumbles, sounding a little less than sober. 

“Are we not friends?! Isn’t that what friends talk about?”

“Is that what you and Sou talk about?”

“We do!” Sou affirms with a cheerful thumbs up. 

“That’s disgusting.”

Tetsurou sits, feeling a little shell-shocked at this piece of news. He’s not sure why he’s so surprised; he’s well-aware that Kenma is a human like the rest of them, but for some reason he’s never thought about Kenma being  _ interested  _ in anyone. He glances around the room, trying to pinpoint who Kenma could be interested in, but the only girl present is Yukie. Is Yukie Kenma’s type?! But he’s never seen Kenma really talk to or look at Yukie, so that doesn’t really add up. He looks around again, his eyes narrowing, and then it dawns on him. Holy shit - does Kenma like guys?! Not that it would be a big deal if he did; it’s not uncommon in the music scene, but the thought puts a funny feeling in his stomach. What guy would be Kenma’s type? He glances around - definitely Koutarou, not Akinori, probably not Morisuke or Nobuyuki - oh my god,  _ Keiji.  _ Keiji’s good-looking, intelligent, quiet, and, most importantly, heavily speculated to be gay. 

Tetsurou should be happy that his friend has a chance of happiness, right? So how come the mere idea makes him feel like a piece of lead has been dropped directly onto his gut?

“Tetsu, man, your turn,” Koutarou crows, and Tetsurou just shakes his head. “I have not,” he says proudly.

“That’s shocking,” Morisuke says.

“Fuck you, man. I have standards.”

“So none of us live up to your standards?” Eita, the drummer from Powerhouse, says.

“Nope,” Tetsurou says, and then, “Fuck you, Eita, you didn’t drink either.”

“My standards are sky high,” Eita replies flatly. “But for me, at least, it works.”

Tetsurou’s about to snap back when Koutarou interrupts with a really loud, “NEVER HAVE I EVER HAD PUBLIC SEX.”

Akinori stares at him pointedly. “Bullshit.”

“How is that bullshit?!”

“Last week you got super fucked up and I saw you and that one girl Ali in the bushes,” Akinori replies dryly. “More than I ever wanted to see of you.” 

“Does inside of a bush count as public?” Koutarou asks with wide eyes. “Oh, shit, never mind.”

“Too late,” Tetsurou says, smacking him on the back. “Take that shot, jackass.”

He takes a shot, grimacing at the memory, and then looks around to see Eita, Satori, and Taketora doing the same. There’s a look on Keiji’s face that Tetsurou doesn’t really understand as he looks at Koutarou, though - as if he’s almost disappointed, somehow. Maybe he’s just disappointed at Koutarou’s bad decision making, Tetsurou figures, but at this point in their friendship - friends from even before their band had formed four years ago - Tetsurou figures that Keiji should probably be used to it, so it’s strange that he’s upset. Tetsurou decides he’ll dwell on that when he’s a little more sober.

“Never have I ever gotten my dick stuck in a bottle,” Yukie says sweetly.

“This is  _ targeting _ ,” Koutarou whines, but he takes a shot anyways. “You don’t even have a dick to get stuck in a bottle!”

“Which means that you can basically confirm I haven’t done it,” Yukie shoots back.

Keiji shrugs. “She has a point, Koutarou.”

“She’s  _ mean _ ,” Koutarou wails, then looks around. “Wait, none of you guys have done that?!”

“I don’t think it’s a normal thing,” Kenma mumbles.

“I’m a little bit concerned about how you managed that,” Wakatoshi says. 

“Wow,” says the boy sitting to his left - Tsutomu, Tetsurou thinks his name is, the newest member of Powerhouse. “These band games are actually as wild as the rumors said they'd be.” 

“Right!” Lev chirps, making big-eyed eye contact with Tsutomu. Tetsurou thinks, well, shit, this can’t be good. He can’t imagine Lev being a good mentor to any new kid in their community. Then his gaze makes its way back over to Kenma, who’s looking back at him, a tiny little smile on his face. Tetsurou can’t help but smile back. 

He doesn’t have the time to process what it could possibly mean, because Keiji’s interrupting with a “Never have I ever gone into emo mode on stage and dropped my bass,” and then Koutarou’s wailing back, “Keiiiiiiji! I thought we were fuckin’ cool, what the fuck?” as he gulps down his shot.

.

Over the past few weeks, they’ve fallen into a routine: Neko goes on after Catfight, so Tetsurou usually starts their set by giving a speech about Catfight. It’s usually something short, just a quick “would you give it up for our amazing opening band?” or “How are we supposed to follow that kind of a fuckin’ performance, huh? Give it up for Catfight!” But on one particular night, after their Seattle show, he watches Kenma skulk off of the stage, his gaze downcast and hands shoved deep into the pocket of his hoodie. He gently takes ahold of Kenma’s shoulder as Kenma passes him. “What’s going on?” he asks quietly. 

“I fucked up,” Kenma says in a tone that’s even softer than usual. “I forgot half of the words to one of my own songs and then I stuttered when I was talking and I almost tripped over the mic cord when I was trying to move around the stage. It was… bad.”

“We all have nights like that,” Tetsurou says, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was,” Kenma says, voice flat. He places his other hand on top of Tetsurou’s and gently brushes Tetsurou’s hand off of his shoulder. “You have a show to play. I’ll talk to you later.”

_ You’re more important,  _ Tetsurou thinks, and his chest aches with the sentiment. It’s not true, he thinks. It can’t be. Tetsurou’s been in the scene long enough to know what happens when you give a person more importance than the music. He’s seen enough bands fall off the radar completely after taking some time off for romantic pursuits or helping out a friend or whatever. And he’d told himself he would never be that person. He’d never had anyone that was  _ that  _ important, anyways. Bethany was great, of course, but she hadn't come close. So he definitely is not going to start considering it now.

“Okay,” he says, exhaling deeply. When he gets on the stage, he beams into the audience as he says, “Let me hear it for our fantastic opener, Catfight!” The crowd bursts into applause and cheers, but this time, Tetsurou won’t stop there. “Guys, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, okay?” More cheers and applause. “Being a performer, doing this shit night after night, man, it’s not easy. Just like everyone else in the damn world, we have good and bad nights. And sometimes we fuck shit up. But that’s normal! So don’t you ever let me hear you judging a performer for fucking up at one performance. If they never messed up, they’d probably be a fuckin’ robot or somethin’, and who the fuck wants to see a robot perform?” The crowd cheers again, mixed with hoots and laughs. “So let’s hear it again for Catfight! Just as amazing today as they were yesterday, and as they’ll be every day from now on. Album of the year, guys. I’m tellin’ you.”

It’s kind of nice, Tetsurou thinks as they start up their first song, to be able to speak like himself - from the heart. The songs they’re singing, like this one,  _ Blood in Our Veins,  _ one of their first hits, just doesn’t sound like him anymore. The lyrics - about some stupid high school girlfriend he’d broken up with ages ago - don’t even sound like they came from him. But what can he even do about it?   
  


_ Something totally new.  _ The words echo in his head again as he plays the set, doing his best to stay out of his head and to interact with the crowd, to be the Tetsurou Kuroo they’d all paid decent money to come see. 

After the set, he says “Good show, good show,” to Nobuyuki, who grins and pats him on the back, and says, “Keep workin’ on it,” to Morisuke, who kicks him in the shin. He then makes a beeline for Catfight’s bus, where he finds Kenma bundled up in a blanket, glaring at him from the couch.

“That was embarrassing,” he says, his gaze dark.

“I - sorry,” Tetsurou says lamely, standing awkwardly in front of the couch. “I didn’t think about it from that angle. I just… I didn’t want you, or anyone else, to think that one fuckup is the end of the world. I mean, not that you fucked up or anything, just that, you know - “

“It’s fine.” Kenma pats the place beside him on the couch, and Tetsurou gingerly steps over to take the seat beside him, wondering at the feeling of relaxation that comes over him at the close proximity to Kenma. “I knew you were embarrassing already. And… I know that your intentions were good, even if your methods aren’t always the best.”

Tetsurou breathes out in relief, long and deep. He leans over to nuzzle his head into the nook between Kenma’s head and shoulder in a manner that he hopes is comforting and mumbles into Kenma’s shoulder, “I’m sure you did fine.”

Kenma takes a second before he says, “I didn’t.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time I ripped my pants on stage?”

“You haven’t, unfortunately. But now I’m interested.”

“I was wearing my favorite pair of skinny jeans,” Tetsurou says mournfully. “Unfortunately, that pair was  _ extremely  _ skinny, so the minute I tried to jump off of the speaker, they gave out. Ripped straight down the middle and showed my heart boxers off to everyone.”

“You’re a boxers guy.”

“You say that as if you already knew,” Tetsurou complains, and then says, “And is that the most important part of the story?”

Kenma smiles. It comes as a relief after the events of the night. “I mean, obviously the ripped pants were very amusing. I guess I really wasn’t the biggest disaster ever.”

“They’ll forget about it in no time. Especially since I completely stole the show afterwards.”

“ _ Kuro. _ ”

Tetsurou laughs. “Okay, okay, they’ll forget about it in no time ‘cause you’re amazing and talented and they’ll have better things to talk about. You’ll see.” 

“If you say so,” Kenma says doubtfully, but he leans a little bit closer to Tetsurou as if seeking comfort. It reminds Tetsurou of the way a cat shows affection, and Tetsurou has the sudden urge to pet his hair. (Probably not a normal thing to do, though, so he doesn’t.) Instead, he sits in silence with Kenma as Kenma pulls out his PSP and pulls up a game, clicking away at the buttons while Tetsurou watches. It’s peaceful, warm. Tetsurou doesn’t want to move.

“You know,” Kenma says, softly, “you’re nothing like I thought you were.”

Tetsurou hums. “What did you think I was, then?”

“Cool,” Kenma answers.

Tetsurou’s head flies up from Kenma’s shoulders as he sputters out, “Excuse me?”

Kenma laughs, the sound tiny and melodious, and then shakes his head. “I mean, I thought you were like, this untouchable being. Too cool for me, I guess. Talented, famous, godly. But it turns out you’re just a dork.” 

“I’m uncool and a dork?!” Tetsurou exclaims. “God, thanks, appreciate it.”

Kenma presses at the buttons on his game a little faster, his face heating up a little bit as he says, “...well, I like you better that way, anyways.”

Tetsurou’s chest feels warm as he leans his head back onto Kenma’s shoulder. Words like that just seem to have more weight when they’re coming from Kenma, who so rarely gives them - and he can’t wait to hear more from him in the future.

.

The tour ends far too quickly, a flurry of shows and drinking nights and restaurants with Kenma and pranks, mostly leveraged against Full Soul and Catfight. Tetsurou looks at the pictures Koutarou happily presented him at the end of the tour, printed from his disposable camera. He chooses a few to hang on his wall: one of him and Kenma standing at the bar, his arm draped around Kenma’s shoulders. One of his band, Morisuke flipping off the camera while he gives his best seductive smirk. One of him and Koutarou kissing either side of a liquor bottle. Another one of him and Kenma, this one with the two of them sitting on Neko’s bus, Tetsurou watching as Kenma plays his game, looking as though they’re in their own little bubble. There are, Tetsurou notices, a lot of him and Kenma, but it only makes sense. As of this tour, they’ve become closer friends, which is great - what Tetsurou had been hoping for.

It’s nice to have his own room and shower back, but Tetsurou can’t help but miss touring. There’s something about this tour that had just been different. It’d been more fun than usual. All of the bands had clicked well together this time, he thinks.

The weeks pass, though, and he tries to write new music but finds it fruitless. The words won’t come. He keeps thinking about what everyone is expecting from him and expecting from Neko and how he’s going to disappoint them. Tears of frustration roll down his face as he looks at the piece of paper in front of him, blank, not even a word on it to pretend he’s being productive. He balls it up and angrily chucks it at the wall. It falls uselessly to the floor.

“Fuck,” Tetsurou says quietly, and then, increasing in volume, “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck  _ it!” 

It’s not like there’s anyone around to hear him, but he fires off a clearly frustrated text to Kenma. A minute later, his phone starts ringing.

“Kuro,” comes Kenma’s voice on the other end of the line, and even the familiar nickname is reassuring. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t do it,” Tetsurou says. “I can’t fucking write, Kenma. I can’t do anything.”

“Then don’t,” Kenma says, like it’s simple.

_ Then don’t. _

He puts the pen down, and it feels like freedom. 

Although it still doesn’t stop the worries from immediately flooding his mind. He tries to push out the thought of his manager calling him, of the label demanding new songs or putting a time limit on when they need to release a new album lest they lose their label. “It’s okay to take a break,” comes Kenma’s voice again, a reassurance. “You’ve put three albums out in, like, five years. That’s impressive. It’s inevitable that you’d hit a wall at some point.” 

“I’m supposed to be superhuman,” Tetsurou says petulantly. 

“Hm,” Kenma says. “Why haven’t you been using those powers for my benefit, then?”

“Ha, I’ll start now. What do you want?” 

“More pie.” 

“I’ll make it happen,” Tetsurou promises, “but, unfortunately, it might not be for a while, because I have to be there in person to do it.”

“What kind of superpower is that?”

“A… normal human one,” Tetsurou admits. 

“Boring.”

“Hey, fuck you. I promised you pie - shouldn’t you be more grateful?”

“No. That’s the basic requirement to be my friend.”

“That sounds like extortion!” 

He’s laughing, though. The weight on his chest feels lighter. It’s nice, he thinks, having a friend that makes him feel better like this. Koutarou is great, of course, but he’s busy, and occasionally a little bit emotionally dense. Kenma is - well, he’s understanding, funny, and easy to talk to. Tetsurou hopes he can hang on to him for a whole lot longer.

.

A couple of weeks later, Tetsurou’s lying in his bed, the radio turned on, when the radio announcer says, “And here’s a brand new hit from an up and coming band, Full Soul:  _ Not Impossible!  _ This song and their new album,  _ Protagonists of the World,  _ have been destroying the charts. I personally can’t wait to hear more from them.”

As Keiji’s voice starts pouring out of his radio, crooning out Full Soul’s familiar lyrics, Tetsurou eagerly calls Koutarou’s number. “Dude,” he says once Koutarou picks up the phone. “I just heard your song on the hits station, what the fuck.”

“ _ Protagonists of the World  _ is doing so fuckin’ well!” Koutarou says in a voice that sounds more like a shout. “I feel like I’m actually famous this time or somethin’! This is so cool! Oh my god, we’re on the radio!” 

“You’re on the radio,” Tetsurou repeats with a chuckle. “Congrats, man. You guys deserve it.”

“Hey, I’m callin’ it now,” Koutarou says. “Your next album is gonna be a total hit.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s not sure there’s going to be a next album at this rate, so he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets Koutarou keep talking about his band’s future, which now includes getting a main stage slot at Warped that summer. And then, when he talks to Kenma a few days later, he finds out that Catfight is also doing their first Warped Tour. 

“I have to admit, the stories I’ve heard about Warped have me a little terrified,” Kenma says.

“It’s not that bad,” Tetsurou says, and then, thinking further, “I mean, it’s just a bunch of sweaty people thrown together all summer. But, well, you really  _ get to know  _ people. It’s where I got to know a lot of other guys on the scene. The guys from Yellowcard, Simple Plan, Jimmy Eat World, uhhh, Takanobu Aone from Quiet Corporations…”

Kenma’s quiet for a second, and then he says, “That’s what scares me.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m not… not that good with people,” Kenma admits slowly. “And I worry too much about what they think. So I’m worried that’ll be obvious when I’m on Warped, and I’ll make a bad impression on everyone else.”

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not good with people?” Tetsurou asks curiously. That had never been his impression of Kenma, not even when they’d first met in the bar. He’d been quiet, sure, but it had been endearing. And ever since then, he hasn’t exactly made any enemies that Tetsurou’s aware of. Keiji and Koutarou love him, at the least, along with Morisuke and Nobuyuki, and Wakatoshi had certainly seemed fond of him. That’s to say the least of his own undeniable fondness for Kenma. So who exactly is he thinking of?

“Well, not around you,” Kenma says. “It’s… easier when you’re there, I guess. Makes it easier to integrate into everything. But when you’re not…”

“Bo will be there, right?” Tetsurou reminds him. “And Keiji. They’ll take care of you.”  
  
  


“Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“It’s gonna be fun. Don’t stress it too much. And for what it’s worth, I honestly think that you’re pretty damn good with people.” 

“I’m only good with people who talk too much, so I don’t have to.”

“First of all, you talk a ton for someone who claims to be the quiet type. Second of all, you and Keiji get along fine, so that’s just total bullshit.”

Kenma turns out to be just fine, though, as Tetsurou had imagined he would be. He finds that Kenma’s sent him a text message right before he’s getting ready to perform at one of the summer festivals Neko had gotten roped into.  _ im ok,  _ Kenma says. _ warped is a lot, but its fine. lev says he misses mori btw.  _

Tetsurou snorts, wondering if Morisuke might actually murder him if he were to inform Morisuke of that fact. Instead, he fires back a text with a question about what pranks are going on that year and who he’s met so far and opens up his web browser on his computer. He googles “catfight warped tour” and watches some of the videos that pop up. He sees Kenma up on the Warped stage, giving it his all as always. He can’t help but feel the slightest bit jealous as he combs through photos that fans have posted: photos of Kenma with fans; photos of Kenma and Keiji, their faces as serious as ever as they discuss; a photo of Kenma and Koutarou, Koutarou’s arm draped around Kenma’s neck; a photo of Kenma and Wakatoshi eating breakfast together. There’s even a photo of Kenma with Asahi Azumane from Flightless Birds: Tetsurou himself barely knows the members of Flightless Birds, other than Chikara Ennoshita, who Tetsurou imagines has assigned himself as Flightless Birds’ liaison to other bands. 

God, he had imagined it would be nice to get a break from Warped this year, but apparently Kenma being there, Catfight being there, Full Soul being there: some combination of them is enough to make him miss it.

He shuts his computer off and climbs back into his bed. “I have no fuckin’ clue what I’m doing,” he confesses to Billie Jo Armstrong on his ceiling. Unsurprisingly, Billie Jo doesn’t reply, but Tetsurou thinks he hears something like, “You’ll make it through,” in his head anyways.

  
  



	4. A Long Shot, A Lost Cause

Write me off, give up on me  
Cause darling what did you expect  
I'm just off, a lost cause  
A long shot, don't even take this bet

\- _A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me, Fall Out Boy_

It’s later that year that Tetsurou’s reminded of the band Koutarou signed to his brand new label when their album blows the fuck up in the alternative scene. One day he’s never really heard of Bluecastle or Tooru Oikawa, but the next day they’re everywhere: all over the radio, on every website, and everyone he talks to is asking if he’s heard their new album yet. Tetsurou gives in. He stops by his local record store and greets the guy that works there, a guy in his thirties with dyed blonde hair. Today, he stops to glance at his nametag: Keishin. Keishin looks like he should be in a band, Tetsurou thinks. Not Tetsurou. He wonders if Keishin recognizes him, if he even listens to Neko.

But he pushes the thoughts away and picks up Bluecastle’s latest album. It’s - well, the cover is certainly very blue, and there’s a castle on it. Very creative, Tetsurou thinks wryly.The album name is  _ Grand King _ , written in white capital letters across the top. 

Tetsurou pays for it, wishing absently he could be one of the guys that's famous enough to get others' music sent to him for free. But he takes the album home and pops it into his CD player, plopping down on his bed and curling up to listen.

Tooru Oikawa is definitely talented, that much becomes obvious immediately. His vocal range is impressive, and even beyond that, the lyricism of the album is striking. Suddenly, it makes sense to Tetsurou why their album got so big so quickly.

“Congrats, man,” Tetsurou tells Koutarou on the phone.

“They’re great, aren’t they?” Koutarou replies eagerly. “Hell, both the bands I got signed are killin’ it these days. Maybe this is really what I’m meant to do.”

“Need I remind you that it was me that found Catfight?”

“Shut up, Tetsu! Let me have this!” 

He feels even worse as he hangs up the phone, though. All these bands and their successful albums, and he is - 

He’s still in a rut. A rut that he’s fairly sure he’s never going to get out of. 

He lies down on his bed and starts to think. There’s got to be a way out of this, a way to - 

Suddenly, it hits him.

There are a lot of musicians out there that burn out. It’s not like it’s an uncommon thing, exactly. But one thing that a lot of musicians do is, when their current band isn’t working for them anymore, they move on. They start a new band. They start playing completely different music.

And that’s what Tetsurou  _ wants.  _

It’s not that he doesn’t like Morisuke and Nobuyuki anymore. He loves them, almost as if they were his own brothers. So he’s sure that even if he starts his new band, he’ll give them the opportunity to join as well, and hopefully it’ll feel less like he’s ditching them. But he can’t picture doing this anymore as a part of Neko. He can’t picture writing another album under Neko’s name.

As Kenma had said, what Tetsurou wants is to do something completely new. He wants to get out of his current band, away from their current label. He wants to move on. And sure, maybe his fans will hate him, will call him the reason that Neko ended. But hopefully some of them, at least, will tune in to his new band, so it won’t be a total loss. 

He starts making his plans. His first decision, though, is that he has to talk to Nobuyuki and Morisuke. They meet up in a fairly secluded coffee shop and Tetsurou sighs, looking at them with guilty eyes.

Morisuke frowns, leaning back in his chair. “I had a feeling this was gonna be one of  _ those  _ conversations.”

“It’s been a long time coming,” Nobuyuki says.

“Hang on, you guys know what I’m about to say?!” Tetsurou asks, baffled.

“Dude, you haven’t written shit in over a year,” Morisuke says dully. “You ignore all the label’s angry calls, so they started calling me. You look dead half the time when you’re on stage. It’s like watching a prisoner marching to Death Row. Fucking depressing as hell.”

Tetsurou groans. “I’m sorry. It’s just - I don’t know. I don’t wanna do this kind of music anymore. I feel like I’m trapped. I hate it. So I just… I guess it’s time for me to move on, do something new. But you guys are welcome to join me! We can just start something new, call it a new name, with the same members -”

“Nah,” Nobuyuki says, grinning and shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking that it’s time to move on anyways. Feel like I’m just not in the right place in my life to be touring anyways. Besides, my girlfriend would probably kill me if I joined another band and kept leaving her all the time.”

“I think it’s probably a bad idea,” Morisuke says. “I like the kind of music we were doing. So I’ll probably just go join another band that’s looking for a drummer.” Morisuke flashes his teeth at Tetsurou. “So I’ll see you on the road sometime soon.”

Tetsurou can feel his eyes tearing up. “I love you guys,” he says, squeezing each of their shoulders in turn and then wiping at his eyes. “Seriously, I do.”

“Love you too,” Morisuke says gruffly, not making eye contact. “But this won’t be the last time you see us, right? So it’s not a fuckin’ goodbye or anything.”

“Course not,” Tetsurou agrees. 

Nobuyuki hugs him then, and Tetsurou’s tears start to flow more freely as he cries into Nobuyuki’s shoulder. 

It’s effectively the end of Neko. It’s not the last time that they play together, though: no, they have a couple more shows as a farewell, effectively. It's what the label wants. Tetsurou certainly doesn’t regret their decision to break up the band, but at the same time, it feels bittersweet. Neko has been a part of his life for so many years now that it’s hard to imagine his life without it. And he’d loved Neko, really - he’d loved being a part of Neko. It’s hard for him to say goodbye.

At their last show, though, someone that Tetsurou isn’t expecting, but probably should have been, shows up. One of Neko’s biggest fans, Tetsurou realizes. Someone that he’d first met at a Neko show, who had confessed that he’d thought of Tetsurou as a godly being at one time, because he’d admired Neko that much. Kenma Kozume gives him a tiny smile from the crowd. It takes him back to his roots, reminds him of what he’s giving up. It’s only then that the tears start to stream down his face.

“Thank you,” he says into the microphone before their last song. “Thank you all so much. I can’t believe how much people have supported us, and well, we - we would have never made it this far without you guys. These past few years being a part of Neko have been some of the best of my life. And this isn’t the last you’ll see of us! So it’s not really a goodbye, it’s more of a - of a see you later,” Tetsurou manages to get out before he throws himself into singing the last song, performing it with as much heart as possible. To his fans, to his band members, to his friends, to Kenma: his apology, for not being able to hold it together as a part of Neko for longer.

Once the show is over, he spends a while greeting fans, signing albums, taking pictures with people to ease his guilt. He smiles at the fans who say how much Neko has meant to them, and gives them hugs when they say how much they’re going to miss Neko, reassures them that they’ll definitely see them again. It’s more of a reaction than Tetsurou had expected. And then, after the fans have dispersed, the last fan walks up to him.

“It’s over now, huh?” Kenma asks, his voice a quiet murmur.

“Yeah.” Tetsurou looks up at the empty stage, then back to Kenma. “I can’t believe it.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Like you said,” Tetsurou answers, “something totally different. I’m free now. I can sing the music that I want to sing, that I want the world to hear. So we’ll see.” Tetsurou grins over at him. “But don’t you worry, this doesn’t mean I’ve given up. This is just a new beginning for me.”

“I know you always say that I’m going to do great things,” Kenma mumbles, his voice low and cheeks pink. “So I guess right now is the right time for me to say it, too. I know you’re going to do great things, Kuro.”

Tetsurou grins at him, and pulls him in for a hug. Kenma acts hesitant for a second or two before he steps a tiny bit closer, letting Tetsurou engulf him. Holding Kenma is comforting, reassuring. He stands like that for a second before he finally lets go and drops his arms. “Come with me?” he asks. 

Kenma looks around, then shrugs. “Sure,” he says, walking by Tetsurou’s side. Tetsurou takes him backstage, to where Morisuke and Nobuyuki are standing, talking in low voices. Nobuyuki’s arm shoots out to rest on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?” he asks. 

“It’s rough,” Tetsurou says with a tiny smile. “But it’s the right thing to do, right?” He laughs. “God, this sounds like a breakup.”

Morisuke laughs too, and then he throws his arms around Tetsurou and Nobuyuki, pulling them in close. They all stand there together, laughing through their tears, and Morisuke says in a tight voice, “I’m really gonna miss you idiots.”

“Me too,” Tetsurou says, wiping his tears with his arm. “Me too.”

After another minute, Morisuke drags a (very reluctant) Kenma into the hug, claiming that “with how often Kenma has ended up on the Neko bus as of recently, he might as well be a member.” And they stay for a little bit longer, reminiscing and chatting and talking, until Nobuyuki excuses himself, saying he has a date. Then Morisuke says he also has a date - which Tetsurou doesn’t buy one bit - but it leaves Tetsurou alone with Kenma. 

“What, do you have a date too?” Tetsurou asks Kenma teasingly.

“No,” Kenma huffs.

It gets Tetsurou thinking about that one weird game of Never Have I Ever, though, so he finds himself gingerly asking, “Uh, are you interested in anyone, though?”  _ Subtle.  _ He can’t help but cringe at his own lack of tact.

Kenma glances at him, expression unreadable. “Not like that,” Kenma says, finally. Tetsurou can’t help but wonder what kind of person you’d have to be to hold Kenma’s attention - interesting Kenma, beautiful Kenma, an amazing person with a beautiful voice. 

“Okay,” Tetsurou says, thinking about if he believes him. It sounds convincing enough, but that  _ game  _ \- well, maybe he’d gotten over Keiji somehow? Or maybe it was just an aesthetic or a sexual thing? That much would make sense. He decides it’s best not to talk about it any further, though, lest he make a fool of himself, and says, “Hey, come to Waffle House with me.”

Kenma’s eyes narrow. “Waffle House?” he asks.

“There aren’t many options open at this time of night,” Tetsurou complains. “And there’s nothing better than crying your sorrows away into a plate of waffles.”

“Are you going to be crying all night?”

“Clearly.”

“Maybe I should make an excuse and leave, then.”

But he doesn’t. He goes with Tetsurou to Waffle House and orders a plate of waffles that Tetsurou’s pretty sure is 90% whipped cream and chocolate syrup, 10% waffles, and shovels about half of it into his face before he’s declaring that he’s too stuffed to eat anymore. Then he looks at Tetsurou across the table, his gaze intense. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Tetsurou glances down at his plate of half-eaten waffles, then glances back up at Kenma. “I’m okay,” he says, “or I’ll be okay, I guess. It’s not just an ending, right? It’s also a new beginning.” 

Kenma nods, and Tetsurou watches the way his hair moves, brushing his face. “If you need help with this new beginning,” Kenma says, “you know where to find me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tetsurou says. His thoughts start to spin; he can’t help but imagine that with the support of Kenma, his new beginning could be even more incredible. 

That’s how the night after the last Neko show ends, a windy night in November of 2005 - with Kenma and Tetsurou inside of a Waffle House, eating waffles and sharing stories, possibilities stretching out in front of them, as infinite as the night sky.

.

Tetsurou holes himself up in his room for a couple of weeks. He’s heard that it’s what great creators, artists and musicians and authors, do to get inspiration: isolate themselves to the point of madness. All it does, though, is intensify his loneliness. Being left alone with his thoughts makes him feel as if he’s fighting a war against himself. He’s constantly kicking out the negative thoughts, trying to replace them with positive ones. What’s worse, he doesn’t feel any more inspired to write than he had as a part of Neko, and he’s beginning to feel like ending Neko was the wrong thing to do. If he can’t write either way, what does it matter if he’s a part of Neko or of something else? God, he’s such an idiot. 

He gets a text from Bethany, saying  _ hey saw neko broke up. everything ok?  _ It stings, despite the fact that he’s completely over their break up and rarely thinks about it. It just seems like another reminder of how much of a fuck-up he is. Even his ex-girlfriend, who’d gone and actually fallen for someone else, is worried about him. What a fucking mess he must be.

And then, a call from Kenma interrupts his moping.

“Just got a call from the label,” Kenma greets him.

“Wow, not even a hello? Not even a greeting for your favorite member of Neko?”

“Ex-member now.”

“Ha, you didn’t correct me. That means I really am your favorite ex-member of Neko.”

“Kuro,” Kenma huffs out. 

“Fine, fine. What’s going on?”

“The label said we’re going on tour with Bo’s new band,” he says. “Uh, Bluecastle or whatever. Do you know anything about them?”

Tetsurou can’t help but wince. He’s been wanting to meet Koutarou’s new band for a while, after all, and there seems to be no better opportunity than to go on tour with Catfight and Bluecastle together. But he doesn’t have a band at the moment, and it’s not as though he has any songs to play as a solo artist, so there’s no way he’s going to be put on this tour. He frowns. “Only what Bo’s told me. Lead singer is super talented, but can be kind of annoying at times. Other members of the band are fine, I guess. He didn’t say much about them.”

Kenma exhales. “Really,” he says, his voice sounding a little more dead than before. “You mean I’m going to have to put up with this lead singer and Lev simultaneously? I deserve a Nobel Peace Prize or something.”

“You do,” Tetsurou agrees, resisting the urge to laugh at Kenma’s predicament. “But who knows? Maybe Bo calls him annoying because he doesn’t talk enough and that gets on his nerves.”

He can practically feel Kenma’s judgmental stare in response. It makes him feel as though Kenma’s there with him, which makes him feel a little lighter inside. “Yeah,” Kenma says, irony leaking through his words. “I’m sure that’s why.”

“Hey, you never know! Don’t abandon all hope just yet.”

Unfortunately, though, it seems Tetsurou’s prediction had not been correct, because a day into starting the tour, Kenma calls him and says, “His personality is terrible.”

Tetsurou cackles. He manages to calm himself down after a minute, though, and under the force of what he assumes is Kenma’s judgmental glare, asks, “What do you mean?”

“He’s just…” Kenma pauses, as though he’s thinking of the words to say. “He walked up to me and started calling me Ken and then tried to flirt with one of the stagehands while he was still talking to me. Also, he keeps teasing me about my hair and how my roots are showing through and calling me a pudding.”

“I mean, you do look like a pudding.”

“Shut up. I do not.”

“You do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“You do too. Anyways, he doesn’t sound that bad.”

Kenma takes a second, then says, “He’s not as bad as Lev.”

“High praise,” Tetsurou says wryly, smiling to himself. “You’ll survive.”

“What if I don’t,” Kenma grumbles, and then says, “How is your music coming?”

Tetsurou sighs. “Could be better,” he says. “I dunno, I just keep thinking. Did I make the wrong choice? I mean, I could’ve been happy with Neko, maybe, if I’d just given it time.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kenma’s voice is sharp, matter-of-fact. “What’s done is done. You can’t go back and reform Neko, and if you did it’d look a little embarrassing. Besides, you said Morisuke and Nobuyuki were also agreeable to the idea of dissolving the band, so they’re not going to want to go back. So what you have to do now is figure out what you’re going to do next. Don’t waste time wallowing in what could have been.”

Tetsurou takes a deep breath in, the air feeling as though it’s clearing his head. He gives a little nod and then realizes Kenma can’t exactly see it. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

“That tends to happen.”

“Don’t get smug, you little shit.”

Kenma’s end of the line gets quieter for a moment. Tetsurou thinks that maybe Kenma’s offended, that he’s taken their bickering too far, and he opens his mouth to apologize when he hears a slight noise on the other line. It takes him a couple of seconds to recognize that Kenma’s laughing. He takes a second to take it in; it’s a beautiful sound, one he wishes he heard more often. Too bad Kenma Kozume is a tough nut to crack.

After a second more, Tetsurou says, “Glad to see you find my clearly very angry insults funny.”

“Shut up,” Kenma says, his usual response. “I guess I should let you get back to writing.”

“To staring at a blank paper and hating myself, you mean.”

“Just write what you want to hear. Write what the world is missing. Or… think about what made you want to make music in the first place.”

_ What made him want to make music in the first place.  _ He thinks back to being fifteen years old, jumping around in the pit of a concert, the feeling of euphoria in his stomach as he’d jumped and headbanged with the crowd. Tetsurou had been what some might call an angsty teenager. He was perpetually unhappy: with school, with his parents, with the people around him, with the world. It was only during those concerts that Tetsurou could catch a momentary glimpse of happiness. 

That was what made Tetsurou want to create music in the first place. He’d only ever wanted everyone else to be able to feel the same thrill of listening to a song that they truly connected to, to be able to stand in a crowd and scream out the lyrics to their favorite song as the lead singer beamed back at them, someone that cared about them and their well-being. He'd wanted to make music that made people happy, he realizes with a start.

“Kenma,” he says with a gasp. “You’re a genius.”

“Uh,” Kenma says. “I don’t know about that, but -”

“You are,” Tetsurou insists. “You’re right. I have to go back to why I first started wanting to make music in the first place. Shit, I gotta go. Let me know how tour is!” 

He hangs up too quickly to hear Kenma’s response, if there is one. He grabs his pen and finally hits the paper, the words flowing too quickly from his fingertips. Sophistication be damned, Tetsurou Kuroo is going to make music that makes people happy: music that makes people want to dance and have fun. He’d spent far too much time worrying about what his music would look like to people, how the deep the lyrics had to be, how people would pick apart each song. But what if it didn’t matter? What if the lyrics could be as stupid and fun as he wanted them to be?

_ Fuck it,  _ Tetsurou thinks, and lets the words flow freely.

.

He ends up leaving the city for a couple of weeks. Nobuyuki’s family, it turns out, has a cabin out in the woods that they offer up to Tetsurou after hearing about Tetsurou’s desperate need to get away. It’s nice, he finds - solitude doesn’t feel as lonely when he’s able to wrangle his thoughts into coherent songs. He returns to the city with a collection of songs under his belt and a satisfied feeling.

Then Koutarou calls him and asks him to be in Full Soul’s new music video.

“I’m gettin’, like, everyone to be in it,” he says excitedly. “Wakatoshi, Satori, Kenma, maybe some of the others from his band, Tooru, Hajime - “

“Tooru and Hajime?” 

“From Bluecastle,” Koutarou says, like it’s obvious. “Shit, I forgot you haven’t even met them yet! Well, you gotta be in the music video then. Get your ass to LA already.”

So Tetsurou does. And that is how, once he arrives, he comes face-to-face with Tooru Oikawa for the first time.

“Hi~” the guy says, and Tetsurou takes him in. Fairly tall, perfectly styled brown hair, a bright (fake?) smile, a tiny peace sign like he’s some sort of an idol instead of an alternative band frontman. “You must be the Tetsurou Kuroo that Kou and Ken are always going on about! You look just like they said, with your terribly messy hair and slightly predatory smile.”

Tetsurou stands in shock for a second - he hadn’t exactly been expecting that level of bluntness - but after a second, he feels his shoulders sag as he laughs. It’s honestly kind of refreshing, given how fake some people in the scene can be. “And you’re as tactless as Kenma said,” he replies with a smirk.

“Aw, Pudding Head is talking about me!” Tooru says, beaming. “I’ve always known I was the kind of person that deserves to be talked about, but -  _ ow _ ! God, Hajime!” 

Tetsurou grins as Tooru is cut off by a soft punch to the head by a guy Tetsurou has never seen before - also tall, tan, and incredibly buff. He extends a hand towards Tetsurou. “I apologize for this idiot,” he says gruffly. “Hajime Iwaizumi. Bluecastle’s guitarist and, unfortunately, the perpetual fucking babysitter for Shittykawa.”

“Excuse me!” Tooru looks over at Hajime, poking out his lower lip in protest, but Hajime staunchly ignores him. Tooru huffs. “He loves me, really!” 

“Sure,” Tetsurou says, giving Hajime’s hand a firm handshake. “Tetsurou Kuroo. I’ve heard a shit ton about you guys, and by that I mean Bo never shuts up about you all and how talented you are.”

“Kou is far too flattering,” Tooru says, but the way he bats his eyelashes and beams makes it sound as though he enjoys Koutarou’s flattery. Before Tetsurou can reply, though, Tooru’s dark eyes are flickering over and his smile only increases in size and fakeness. “Aw, Pudding Hair has arrived!” 

“Don’t call me that,” says the voice by Tetsurou’s side, and when Tetsurou turns to face it, sure enough, Kenma’s standing there. Tetsurou reaches out automatically to pull him closer, engulfing him in a warm hug. When he pulls back, he observes that Kenma’s hair has just gotten longer, and sure enough, the roots have grown out even more.

“Hm,” Tetsurou says, taking one of the pieces of hair into his hand. “I was right before. You really do look like a pudding.” 

“Doesn’t he?” Tooru asks excitedly, at the same time Kenma says, “I hate all of you.”

“You completely fuckin’ don’t,” Tetsurou says, draping his arm around Kenma’s shoulders.

“I admit that I’m a little bit annoyed,” Tooru says. “This little bastard came out of nowhere and sniped the role of the lead villain out from under me. I was born to be a villain, I’ll have you know.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Hajime mutters.

“I didn’t snipe anything,” Kenma mumbles. “Bo - or Keiji, or Yukie, or  _ someone _ assigned me to the role. I had nothing to do with it. I would rather be in the background, honestly.”

Tetsurou looks at Kenma. He thinks about the smirk he sees sometimes stretching Kenma’s lips, about the look in his eyes sometimes that seems like he’s hatching a plot, and he can kind of see how Kenma got assigned as the lead villain. “Who’s the hero?” he asks.

“Who do you think,” Tooru says, laughing dryly. “You know Kou - he’s always the hero of his own story!” 

“Doesn’t that sound familiar?” comes a guy with very pink hair, popping up on Tooru’s left side.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be a great idea if our music videos were a coherent story, all with the same theme?” Another guy pops up, this one on Tooru’s right side, speaking in a clearly mocking tone. “And - just hear me out here - what if I was the hero? I mean, who else could it possibly be?”

“Shut up,” Tooru whines, elbowing both of them simultaneously and sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. “My band members are such bullies, wouldn’t you agree, Tetsu?”

“I’m not convinced yet that you don’t deserve it,” Tetsurou replies. 

“I like this guy.” The pink-haired one walks over to the side of Tetsurou where Kenma’s not positioned, grinning. “Takahiro Hanamaki. Don’t listen to Tooru - Mattsun and I are the best looking members of the band by far.”

“Although Hajime’s muscles are tough competitors,” the guy who is probably ‘Mattsun’ finishes. “I’m Issei Matsukawa. And you’re Tetsurou Kuroo. We like your band.”

“That we do,” Takahiro says in confirmation. “And we like anyone who gives Tooru shit.”

“Which is why we like Kenma.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, mumbling, “I don’t give him shit. I only say the truth.”

Hajime nods in confirmation, while Tooru gasps. “For such a tiny person,” Tooru says, “you’re  _ scathing. _ ”

“I’m not tiny, either,” Kenma grumbles. “You’re all just absurdly tall for some reason.”

Tetsurou laughs and squeezes Kenma’s shoulder, suddenly grateful that Morisuke isn’t there. He can only imagine what Morisuke’s reaction would be to being called tiny by Tooru - surely much more severe than Kenma’s. Still, his chest squeezes a little bit at the sudden reminder that he’s the only person there without a band. 

Soon enough they’re all being rushed into costumes. Tetsurou grins as he’s hustled into a dark suit, informed he’s to play the role of a classic 1920s gangster. When Kenma steps out, also clothed in a suit with his hair tied into a tight ponytail and a tiny smirk on his face, a gun tucked into a holster on his side, Tetsurou’s breath catches in his throat.

Must be because he makes a  _ really  _ good villain, Tetsurou tells himself.

As they film, though, Tetsurou looks around. He sees Tooru chatting with a very impressed looking Lev Haiba, sees Wakatoshi and Kenma talking in quiet voices, hears Takahiro and Satori chattering loudly. It’s nice to see this picture of inter-band unity, Tetsurou can’t help but think. 

And it’d be a hell of a way to kick off his new band. 

Tetsurou’s mind starts whirring.

.

Therefore, when Tetsurou starts recording his first song, he doesn’t have a band with him. Instead, the other two people in the studio with him are Kenma Kozume and Wakatoshi Ushijima. He’d called Tooru and Keiji as well, but both with their recent success had said they simply didn’t have the time. Koutarou, however, had volunteered himself to make a cameo in the video.

“This is gonna be the hottest video on the planet,” Tetsurou announces, hooking his arms around both Kenma and Wakatoshi’s necks. “The supergroup of the century.”

Kenma blinks. “Better than Traveling Wilburys?” 

“Well…”

“Better than Temple of the Dog?” Wakatoshi adds.

“Okay, fine. Supergroup of the decade, god,” Tetsurou amends. “And only for this one song because I don't have any band members yet. But this song will just have to be that fuckin’ legendary.”

Kenma stares at the lyrics sheet in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “Definitely, uh, colorful lyrics.”

“They came from my heart,” Tetsurou says dramatically.

Wakatoshi blinks. “I admit that I am a little bit worried about your heart if that is the case.” 

Tetsurou grins. “Let’s talk music video. I was thinking a circus theme - “

“You’re kidding.”

“Wakatoshi is the clown - “

“Absolutely not.”

“Kenma is an acrobat -”

“Kuro.” 

“Fine, fine. Maybe a high school theme? Private school so we can all dress like good little schoolboys while we’re singing  _ these  _ lyrics. Ooh, Kenma could be the popular kid.”

“In what world would I ever be the popular kid?!”

“Wakatoshi’s the bully - “

“Excuse me. I would prefer not to be cast as a bully.”

“Ugh, fine, you guys are no fun. We can just be a ragtag gang thrown together in detention, then. Think  _ The Breakfast Club  _ style. Kenma’s the rebel, Wakatoshi’s the good kid, and I’m the stud heartbreaker.”

“I do not think it is believable that you are the stud heartbreaker, Tetsurou.”

“Goddamn, Wakatoshi. Savage.” 

Kenma hides his laughter behind his hand. “I think it could be an interesting idea,” he says, though. “Let’s come up with more suitable roles, though.”

“Excuse me?!” Tetsurou yelps. “There’s literally no more suitable role for me than a stud heartbreaker. I have fuckin’ fan clubs, you know.” 

“Don’t we all,” Wakatoshi says, looking a little bit embarrassed. 

“Wakatoshi has a fan club?” Tetsurou asks, poking him in the side. “Well, damn. Didn’t know you were such a womanslayer.”

“Don’t be a pig,” Kenma says, frowning at him. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just intrigued by the details of Wakatoshi’s clearly flourishing love life.”

“I thought that the topic we are gathered to discuss is the music video, not our romantic lives.”

“Then what am I supposed to tell the gossip magazines that paid me fifty bucks to find out the juicy details of Wakatoshi Ushijima’s flaming hot sex life?”

“ _ Kuro _ .”

“Fine, fine, we’ll talk about the music video! Such wet blankets, god.”

“It’s called being professional.”

“Yes. I agree with Kenma.”

Tetsurou sighs dramatically, leaning back and stretching out his arms. He turns his head over to look at Kenma, giving him a tiny, cheeky grin. Kenma rolls his eyes back at him, but the look on his face, Tetsurou can tell, means he’s not actually mad. 

Hm. He wonders when he became proficient in reading Kenma’s expressions. And he wonders why it makes him so happy that he has. 

.

Actually filming the music video for their "supergroup's" song is more fun than Tetsurou had imagined it would be. They’d managed to procure an actual school for the weekend, and despite Wakatoshi and Kenma’s protests, Tetsurou ended up being able to convince everyone to let him play the flirty playboy. As he leans out of his seat to pass a note to the girl in the seat next to him, a smug, flirtatious smirk decorating his lips, it suddenly occurs to him that he hasn’t actually flirted with a girl in months.

He nearly drops the note in shock.

After Bethany, he’d kind of wanted to stay away from girls for a while. He’d just figured that next time, he’d only go for it if it felt right, and not try to force anything again that wasn’t there. But, well, nothing has felt right. And he hasn’t exactly been talking to many girls, either, much less trying to flirt with them. Has he given up even trying? No, he doesn’t feel like he has; it’s more like…

Well, he’s been busy! Writing music, gathering people for his supergroup song, and hopefully soon, looking for actual members of his band. There’s just no time to think about shit like that anymore. And the thing with Bethany had ended probably in the best possible way, but he doesn’t really want to risk things ending any worse and serving as a distraction from what’s really important - the music. Yep, he tells himself, that’s why.

It has to be.

He heads out to the hallway to move to the ‘detention room’ and does his best to zone back into the music video that they’re filming. Though, to be fair, it’s a lot easier to zone in once Kenma’s there, something solid to concentrate on - fake tattoos on his arm, eyeliner outlining his eyes, in a plaid shirt and ripped jeans and holy shit, did they give him fake piercings? He considers suggesting that Kenma adopt this style regularly, but he can imagine the look Kenma would give him in return. 

By the time they finish filming, though, Tetsurou’s one hundred percent certain that this music video is going to be a fan favorite. It has to be, after all - what with this much power in one place.

.

They set a tentative release date for the music video and song at the end of August, and Kenma goes on Warped Tour again for the summer. Tetsurou can’t help the uneasy feeling in his stomach - he wants to go  _ so badly,  _ because all of his friends will be there, but he can’t exactly go without a band. So he decides to put all of his effort into finding new band members to distract himself.

He asks Koutarou first, because Koutarou knows everyone. And sure enough, after a couple of minutes, Koutarou yells on the other end of the line. “Shit! Actually, I do know someone! He used to play guitar for Fast Talk before they broke up last year. I dunno if he’s looking for something new or not, but Fast Talk played weird shit, so I’m sure he’d been down for whatever you wanna do. Here, I’ll give you his phone number.”

Tetsurou holds onto the piece of paper where he’s written down the guy’s name and number for a few seconds, his heart pounding. It feels intimidating, somehow, to call up this random guy, but more than that Tetsurou’s afraid of this guy turning him down and Tetsurou having to keep hunting for even more people to fill his band. He gets up and grabs some weird ass rabbit foot one of his fans had given him “for good luck.” If ever there was a time that Tetsurou needs luck, it’s right now.

The guy answers on the fourth ring. “Hello?” he says suspiciously, as every musician does when they get a call from an unknown number.

“Hey, Daichi Sawamura?” Tetsurou asks.

“Yeah,” Daichi replies. “Sorry - I don’t exactly know who this is.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tetsurou says. “I’m Tetsurou Kuroo. Bo - uh, Koutarou Bokuto gave me your number.”

“Tetsurou Kuroo, formerly of Neko?” Daichi questions.

“The one and only,” Tetsurou says proudly. “But, well, the formerly part is why I’m calling you. I’m looking to start a new band, and I need members. And Bo gave me your number because he said you’re also probably looking for a new band. So…”

“You want me to join your band,” Daichi says. He pauses for a second. “Where are you?”

  
“Huh?”

Daichi sighs. “What city are you in?” 

“Oh. New York. Near the city.”

“Cool, I’m in the city. Let’s meet up tomorrow, then, and we can discuss this. Also, if you’re looking for a drummer… one of my friends is also searching for a band. Koushi Sugawara. Used to be in Your Only, if you remember them from a couple years ago.”

“Hell yeah,” Tetsurou says enthusiastically. He remembers Your Only - their music had been pretty good, before they’d gone off the radar completely, but he can’t say he remembers their drummer in particular. “That’d be great. Thanks, man.”

“I’ll send you the coffee shop later tonight,” Daichi says. “2 PM. Don’t be late.”

There’s something official in Daichi’s voice that makes Tetsurou feel that, although he’d been the one to start the interaction, Daichi had clearly taken control. He can’t bring himself to care, though. Getting two band members in one is better than he could have ever hoped for. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a grin.

He makes it to the coffee shop before either Daichi or his friend show up. Tetsurou claims a booth in a corner and orders himself a coffee, feeling the thrum of nervousness in his veins all over again. It feels like a first date, he thinks, and chuckles to himself - setting aside the fact that he’s still very much not interested in men. 

The two of them show up together - one with silver hair and a warm looking expression, and the other with a little bit of a more suspicious expression and a stockier build. The warm-looking one steps forward first, extending a hand. “Hi,” he says brightly. “Koushi Sugawara. You’re Tetsurou Kuroo. I’m a huge fan of your music! Hey, thanks for the invitation, by the way.” 

Nice, Tetsurou thinks suspiciously. Too nice. But he shakes Koushi’s hand anyways, warm and firm, before he turns to the guy that must be Daichi.

“Yeah, I’m Daichi,” Daichi says. “I’d say if Koutarou likes you, you must be reliable, but Koutarou likes pretty much everyone. Pretty sure I saw him cozying up to a brick wall once.”

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Tetsurou says with a grin. “But I swear, I’m reliable. Feel free to perform a background check if you wanna. Couple disorderly conducts is all that’ll show up.”

Daichi stares at him quizzically. “Disorderly conduct?”

“I was nineteen and stupid, cut me a break,” Tetsurou defends himself. “But hey, let’s talk music. I have a couple of songs written already, but they tend to be more towards the style of pop rock, little bit on the pop punk side. I don’t know if that’s the sound you’re looking for or what.”

“I’m pretty open,” Koushi says. “I just want to make good music, y’know? Music that I can be proud of. Music that people can listen to and be like, yeah, that’s good shit.”

Tetsurou nods, looking over to Daichi, who just shrugs. “No electropop,” he says. “Nothing that’s formulaic. Nothing that’s embarrassing, to put it frankly. Besides that, I’m also fairly open.”

“I get the feeling that we’d work well together,” Tetsurou says with a smirk.

“We’ve known each other for all of two minutes,” Daichi points out. 

“It’s something like love at first sight, but for platonic band members.”

Daichi turns to look at Koushi, a look on his face that clearly conveys ‘can you believe this idiot’. Koushi returns the look, but then laughs. “We’re not gonna commit to you after two minutes,” Koushi says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’ll have to seduce us first. Show us the songs you’ve gotten written, convince us that you’re the type of lead singer we should want to be in a band with. Give it some time.” 

“What, and you guys don’t have to seduce me?!”

“Well, you already said that you think we’d work well together,” Koushi says slyly. “So it doesn’t sound like you’re in need of that much seduction. We, on the other hand…”

“We’ll need some more convincing,” Daichi finishes.

These two are the cunning type, Tetsurou thinks as he crosses his arms and looks back at their serious faces. They hide their true nature behind a kind face and a serious face, but both of them are truly manipulative little shits. 

Tetsurou wants them in his band.

“Fine, fine, you win,” Tetsurou says. “Let me start with the seduction by buying you drinks.”

“A man after my own heart,” Koushi says with a grin.

.

It only takes a week of ‘seduction’ for Tetsurou to get them to agree to be in his band. They meet up every day to play together, Tetsurou introducing them to his new songs, and although Daichi turns up his nose at some of the lyrics, overall both of them seem to approve. And then, once they accept his offer to be his new guitarist and drummer, Koushi says, “We’re in need of a bassist now, right? Because I have a friend who might be interested. She’s talented as hell, but she’s never played in an actual band before.”

Tetsurou smirks. “Bring her in.”

And that’s how Tetsurou meets the last member of his band, Kiyoko Shimizu. Koushi had been correct; Kiyoko  _ is  _ talented as hell. He listens to her play the bass, watches the look of concentration on her face as she plays, the same serious look that stays on her face as he teasingly says, “Hey, Kiyoko, are you from Tennessee?”

  
“No, Tetsurou, I’m not, and I’m not the only ten you see, either,” she says flatly. 

Tetsurou grins. “See, this is what I need,” he says, hooking his arm around Daichi’s neck and the other he rests on Kiyoko’s shoulder. “People that don’t put up with my shit. My life has been empty without Morisuke constantly telling me to shut the fuck up.”

“I get the feeling that you’re going to be told that a lot on this tour,” Daichi says, rubbing at his temple. He glances up at Tetsurou, his eyes tired already. “But well, I guess you got your band.”

His grin only increases in size. “Black Claw,” he proclaims. “Welcome to Black Claw, assholes.”

“Interesting way to greet the new members of your band,” Kiyoko points out.

“We’re gonna be something special,” Tetsurou says, more seriously this time. “All of you are talented as hell and have something unique to bring to this band. Together, we’re going to be unstoppable. Like a tidal wave - once set into motion, what the hell can stop it, am I right?”

“A really big wall might be able to stop it,” Daichi says, putting a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

Koushi nudges him excitedly. “Hey, isn’t Takanobu Aone’s new band called Iron Wall? Does that mean that they’d be able to stop us?”

“Hm,” Kiyoko says thoughtfully. “They might be able to, in that case.”

“You all are annoying,” Tetsurou huffs. “It was a  _ motivational speech,  _ god. It wasn’t meant to be taken literally.”

Despite their takedown of his clearly incredibly motivational speech, Tetsurou Kuroo is walking on sunshine when he gets back home. He dials Kenma’s number, grins when Kenma picks up on the fourth ring or so. “I have band members!” he proclaims.

“Really?” Kenma’s voice sounds slightly more interested than usual. “You finally have a real band, huh.”

“Don’t say it like that - like it took me a while to get a band! Band members are hard to find, you know.”

“Really? I just picked mine up off the street.”

“Well, that would explain Lev.”

“I don’t think anything can truly explain Lev. But congratulations. You can finally go on tour again.”

“Hey - I want you to perform with us at our first show, though. You and Wakatoshi. So we can perform our new song and everything after it’s released.”

“Yeah. I’ll be off of this hell tour by then, hopefully.”

“Hell tour? What, is Warped that bad this year?”

“No, it’s just - “

Kenma’s sentence is cut off by something that sounds like an otherworldly screech, but Tetsurou slowly comes to realize that it must be someone screeching Kenma’s name. The screech softens into a shout on the other end. “Kenmaaaaa! Hey, we started a water balloon fight with the guys from Iron Wall and Lev and Sou and Atsumu said to tell you that you  _ have  _ to be there so come on already!” 

It’s a voice that Tetsurou doesn’t recognize. Tetsurou feels himself wince, although he’s not sure why the idea of Kenma making friends would bother him. It’s always made him happy to see the boy that he’d taken a chance on spreading his wings and making new friends. But he wishes he was there all over again: there to see the people that Kenma’s meeting, there to be a part of the stupid fucking water balloon fight, there to just hang out with Kenma again. 

“Who was that?” Tetsurou asks once Kenma promises that he’ll be out in a second and the voice fades away.

“Oh, it’s just Shouyou,” Kenma says, as though Tetsurou should know who this  _ just Shouyou _ person is.

“Shouyou..?” Tetsurou asks.

“Shouyou Hinata,” Kenma says. “Lead guitarist for Crowfeathers. He’s… fun, I guess. Kind of loud sometimes. But he keeps showing up, so i hang out with him."

“Oh.” Tetsurou’s heard of Crowfeathers, a pop punk band fronted by Hitoka Yachi, who has an impressive vocal range. He’s never paid that much attention to the other members of the band, though, but suddenly he’s wondering if he should’ve. He wonders what kind of loud person could endear Kenma to him enough for Kenma to describe him as ‘fun’. 

“I have to go,” Kenma says. “I - uh, Shouyou will be annoying about it if I don’t go outside, and Atsumu will bug me, and I… yeah.” 

“Okay,” Tetsurou manages, swallowing to clear his suddenly dry throat. “Have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’d better come on Warped next year, too,” Kenma says before he hangs up.

Tetsurou’s not sure why his heart aches a little bit in his chest after Kenma hangs up the phone. He chalks it up to loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for the comments and for hitting 100+ kudos - a milestone, truly! I'm so glad people are enjoying it, and I'm sorry this chapter is a day late. It got messy with Valentine's Day and all but the next chap should be up next Friday as usual!  
> Also, I forgot to mention in the past few chapters, but every band in this fic is based on a real life band and their journey - so kudos to you if you recognize any of them!


	5. You & Me

I'm tripping on words

You've got my head spinning

I don't know where to go from here

'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to prove

And it's you and me and all of the people

And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

_ \- You & Me, Lifehouse _

On the day of the release of Black Claw’s first song, Tetsurou decides to host their first show. Thankfully, both Wakatoshi and Kenma are off of Warped, where they’d both been playing for the entire summer, so it corresponds perfectly. He pulls Kenma into a tight hug, grinning from ear to ear. “You got a tan,” he points out, one hand tracing his arm. 

Kenma frowns, pulling his arm away. “The people on Warped this year always wanted me to be outside,” he says. “It was annoying.” 

“It looks nice,” Tetsurou says before he can stop himself. But, well, it’s the truth - his darker skin corresponds well with the gold in his hair, in his eyes. “Ready to perform as an official unofficial member of Black Claw?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Sometimes it does seem as though Tetsurou is speaking another language,” Wakatoshi, who’s walked up to join them, says. “However, for once, I do understand his meaning.”

“Aw, Waka, I always knew you and me were on a wavelength all our own!”

“I would not go that far.”

Tetsurou grins. “Well, get ready, unofficial official members. We’ve gotta give these assholes the show of a lifetime.” 

It’s the first time Tetsurou has ever performed on the same stage as Kenma, so it’s the first time that he notices that, while on stage, he seems to naturally gravitate towards Kenma. It’s strange, he thinks. Wakatoshi is on the stage with them as well. He makes himself walk over to Wakatoshi a time or two during the show, just so that it doesn’t seem weird or unnatural. But when he leaves it to the pull of the performance, he ends up near Kenma - resting his arm on Kenma’s shoulder, singing into Kenma’s mic instead of his own, bumping their hips together. It’s weird. Tetsurou doesn’t understand it. But at the same time, he knows that bands like Flightless Birds have taken displays of “romance” to the next level - that their members Asahi Azumane and Yuu Nishinoya are infamous for kissing on stage (well, mostly Yuu kissing Asahi, it seems), although they insist they aren’t dating. In interviews, Yuu claims that it’s just meant as a ‘fuck you’ to homophobia. So whatever Tetsurou does in shows with Kenma, he’s pretty sure it won’t ever get to that level, meaning that they’re most likely safe.

After the show, he takes to wandering the streets nearby with Kenma and Wakatoshi, in search of somewhere to get some late night grub. They’re about to walk into a Taco Bell, one of the few places that’s open at this hour, when he gets a call from Koutarou.

“You guys go in first,” Tetsurou says. “I gotta take this.” He flips his phone open, says, “Kou, what’s goin’ on, man?”

“The label wants to sign you guys,” Koutarou says excitedly. “They got the demo you sent and they heard your song and they think you’d be a good fit. Oh my god, Tetsu. We’re gonna be fuckin’ labelmates.”

Tetsurou’s breath stops in his throat. He chokes, coughing loudly and obnoxiously into the phone, before he finally gets his breath back enough to choke out, “Holy fucking shit.”

“You’re tellin’ me!” Koutarou says. “And you guys can sign with my label too, if you wanna! Kenma’s been thinkin’ about it for Catfight’s second album, and that means we can all be on the same label, and it’ll be so cool!” 

There’s never been any other possible answer. “Yeah, Bo, ‘course I will,” Tetsurou says. 

As Tetsurou enters the Taco Bell a few minutes later, glowing with the promise of a record deal, he looks at his friends and the promise of a glorious Taco Bell dinner waiting for him, he can't help but think that it finally feels like everything is going right.

.

The video for Black Claw’s first song is a big hit, especially within the fans of the scene. Tetsurou knows more than anyone how much fans love to see members of different bands interact, so this seems to be no exception. They also love the high school setting and the general goofy feeling of the video. It’s exciting to feel like a little bit of a hit, Tetsurou thinks. He hopes it’ll be good promotion for Black Claw’s new album, since it’ll be releasing soon.

And then, a few weeks before their album is set to release, Tetsurou gets an email from Satori Tendou, of all people.

The subject is just  _ HAHAHA THOUGHT U’D WANNA C THIS _ and then the body itself is just a link. Tetsurou debates for a few seconds - knowing Satori, it could easily be porn - but his curiosity overtakes him. 

It’s not porn.

Instead, it’s a link to a LiveJournal blog. Tetsurou’s never really used LiveJournal himself. He’s heard about it a few times from the members of Full Soul, all of whom regularly keep and update blogs. The name of the blog, though, is  _ tetsuken _ , and then the description reads  _ “your #1 source for stories about tetsurou kuroo and kenma kozume being together, like, together together xD disclaimer: we know they arent actually a thing! We just luv slash fiction XD” _

We just love what?! 

And hang on, together together?

Tetsurou’s eyes widen. He scrolls down frantically, until his eyes land on a post called “ _ if you wanted honesty: Tetsurou Kuroo/Kenma Kozume, 1/?, High school AU! Don’t like slash and lemons, don’t read!”  _ and his eyes nearly bug out of his head. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as he clicks on the post, a sinking feeling that doesn’t leave him as he reads the summary before the story starts: “ _ Tetsurou Kuroo is the coolest kid in his high school. He’s envied by guys and wanted by all the girls. What’s more, he never gives the loners and rebels, like Kenma Kozume, a second look. But when he gets thrown into detention with Kenma and the two start talking, will something spark between Kenma and Tetsurou, something way beyond the flirtations Tetsurou had been having the girls in his school?” _

A quick scan of the story tells Tetsurou that surely enough, something did spark between Kenma and Tetsurou in the world of this story - something that ends up as both a romance and them fucking in the janitor’s closet in between classes. Tetsurou’s eyes widen as he reads about himself pressing Kenma up against the wall, their lips connecting as he hoists Kenma up against him and then - 

Well, and then onto his dick, apparently. Tetsurou chokes on his own spit. 

People are actually writing fan stories about him and Kenma being  _ together _ \- romantically, sexually, what have you. And while it’s not like Tetsurou hasn’t thought about it, he’s a straight man. So he doesn’t quite understand what appeal the idea of him and Kenma together has to the fans or, honestly, why it’s a thing at all.

He searches  _ Tetsuken  _ on Google. The first result that pops up is an Urban Dictionary definition, defining Tetsuken as “the ship between band members Tetsurou Kuroo (formerly of Neko, now of Black Claw) and Kenma Kozume (of Catfight).” That sends him down a totally new rabbit hole, exploring what exactly a ship is and why people are interested in them. He still can’t understand why the fuck everyone ships him with Kenma until he runs across a post called “the Tetsuken manifesto.” 

It’s a compilation of a lot of things - people speculating over the first time they’d met and their history, over the lyrics of some of the songs off Catfight’s first album, but most of all, over images of them together. There are photos from their performances, of them on tour, and of them just having fun together. The captions read from things like “ _ omg the way Tetsu is looking at Kenma in this pic~ So kyoot!”  _ to  _ “Do they really have to stand so close…. I’m just sayin! Hahaha _ .” 

Tetsurou feels like he might just die on the spot, but, looking at the images, he kind of starts to understand why people might ship Tetsuken. 

He throws himself into further research, and finds that Tetsuken isn’t the only ‘ship’ out there. There’s also Koutetsu - him and Koutarou, which isn’t surprising to find out - but also Kouken, Koutarou and Kenma; Wakaken, Kenma and Wakatoshi; as well as tons from other bands - Koukeiji seems to be a big one, and Tooru and Hajime seem to get shipped together all the time. It’s a whole new thing that Tetsurou hadn’t even known was going on behind the scenes. He finds it interesting and yet incredibly alarming.

He calls Kenma, because it’s become a habit at this point whenever anything remotely interesting happens. Kenma sighs as he answers the phone. “You got the email from Satori.”

“You did too?! What the fuck, did Satori send it to every fucking band out there -”

“And now you’re freaking out. It’s not a big deal, honestly. Shipping happens to everyone.”

“Kenma, did you read this shit? It’s  _ explicit. _ Like, vulgar.”

“Kuro, I don’t know why you’re acting like a scandalized virgin. It’s just written porn.”

“Yeah, but it’s  _ me _ ! And  _ you _ ! And we’re like - well, you know!” 

“Yes, but it’s not actually us, so what does it matter? Let them have their fun.”

Tetsurou’s quiet for a second before he says, “Also, what is this Wakaken ship, and why the fuck is it so popular? Why am I getting left out of all the fun? There were three people in the video, y’know!” 

Kenma’s laugh is tiny, but Tetsurou catches it nonetheless. He wants to keep it hidden away from the world forever. Kenma says, “I’m a little concerned about how quickly you go from being scandalized to wanting to be a part of it.”

“Well, if they’re gonna be writing this gross shit either way, I at least want to have the starring fuckin’ role.” 

“I think it’s funny,” Kenma says. “It’s interesting to see who I get paired with, at least.”

“Whaaat,” Tetsurou says. Kenma is surprising, sometimes, with the way he reacts to things. He’s not a fan of attention, and yet somehow is enjoying people writing about him fucking other guys?! “D’you think they think that we all, y’know, wanna do that shit with dudes?”

“What does it matter if they do?” Kenma says flatly. “You know your own sexuality, Kuro. Don’t worry about what other people say.”

“Rich coming from you. You literally told me that you’re always concerned about what people think about you.”

“When it comes to that,” Kenma says, his voice a little more shaky than usual, “it doesn’t matter. Because it shouldn’t matter whether I want to fuck girls or guys or anyone else. It’s irrelevant to my music and my worth as a person.”

Tetsurou sighs. Kenma is too - too  _ good,  _ and it becomes glaringly obvious at times like this, when he’s preaching the truth about tolerance and sexuality and making Tetsurou seem like a total asshole. “You’re right,” Tetsurou replies. “Sorry. It’s just… weird for me, I guess. But you’re right, I shouldn’t worry too much about what other people are saying.” He pauses, grins. “Besides, we’d make a hot couple, wouldn’t we?” 

“Kuro,” Kenma groans. “Yeah. I guess.” 

“And Bo and I - well, that’d just be too much fuckin’ power in one couple if we were gay. The world couldn’t handle it.”

“You’re being annoying now.”

“And yet, you seem to love it, especially in high school universes where we hook up in the janitor’s closet -”

“Goodbye,” Kenma says, and the line goes dead.

.

Black Claw releases their first album amidst a party of all of their friends. Tetsurou isn’t exactly fond of hearing his voice pumping out over the speakers, but he figures he can deal with it for a few hours, at least. 

He also gets to introduce Kenma and Koutarou to his new band members for the first time. Well, Koutarou knows Daich - he grabs ahold of Daichi and grinds his fist over Daichi’s hair, much to Daichi’s evident chagrin - but the other two he hasn’t met yet. “You’re both  _ hot _ ,” Koutarou says, gasping at the two of them. “Who knew Tetsu’s ugly ass could attract such beautiful people?”

“Excuse me?” Tetsurou gasps. “Dude, I thought we were  _ friends. _ ”

“I’m kidding, man, I’m kidding! You’re a beautiful man that attracts other beautiful men!” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sorry,” Kenma says quietly, extending a hand to Daichi, “that you’re stuck with them. I’m Kenma. Uh, Kenma Kozume.”

“From Catfight, I know,” Daichi replies with a firm handshake. “I’m also sorry that I’m stuck with Tetsurou. I’d imagine he gets worse on tour.”

“He does,” Kenma confirms.

“Suga gets like that if provoked sometimes, so I guess I’m a little bit used to it,” Daichi says with a nod.

“Huh, I do not! Don’t make up lies,” Koushi says, elbowing Daichi. “I’m just a passionate person! But it’s nice to meet you, Kenma and Koutarou.”

Kiyoko just shakes her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kenma,” she says. “I’m a fan of your music.”

“Thanks. Uh, you too,” Kenma says, ducking behind his hair again, as though he’s intimidated by talking to her. He looks like he wants to run away all over again.

Tetsurou cuts in. “How badass of a debut album is this?” he says with a grin.

“Could be better,” Koutarou says. When the four members of Black Claw look at him quizzically, though, he beams. “I’m jokin’, I’m jokin’! It’s totally perfect! And you all are gonna be so good! So, uh! Thanks for joining my best pal outside of my own band’s band and makin’ him look good. That’s my toast.”

“Dude,” Tetsurou points out, “you don’t even have a drink.”

Koutarou looks at his empty hand, his eyes wide, and then yells, “Keiji! Keiiiiji!” 

“What, Koutarou,” Keiji says, appearing at his side. 

“I need a drink!” Koutarou says frantically. “So I can make a toast to Tetsu’s new band!” 

Keiji looks back and forth between the other members of the band and Koutarou, then, with a mildly fond look on his face, says, “Okay, stay there, I’ll get you a drink.”

“Keiji, you’re the best!” Koutarou yells as he walks away.

Tetsurou looks over at Koushi, Daichi, and Kiyoko, all of whom look mildly amused. “You all are very interesting,” Kiyoko says, crossing her arms, the flat expression not leaving her face but something like amusement dancing in her eyes. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

Before she can say anything else, though, Yukie’s running up to her, linking an arm through her own. “Listen,” Yukie says. “I’ve been waiting for more girls signed to this label for so fucking long, you have no idea. These guys? The worst.”

“Yukie!” Koutarou exclaims, sounding pained. “I thought you loved me!” 

“She has a point,” Akinori, who’d appeared out of nowhere, says.

The look in Kiyoko’s eyes becomes a little brighter as she looks at Yukie. “They seem like a lot to handle,” she acknowledges. “I admire you for putting up with them so long.” 

“I’m an expert at this point,” Yukie proclaims. “Come on, I’ll tell you all about how to survive touring with a bunch of fuckin’ idiots.” 

“I can’t believe Yukie would say that about me,” Koutarou says, looking dejected.

“Dude,” Tetsurou says. “No offense, but you must have known that you’re kind of a dumbass.”

“Of course I know, but that doesn’t mean she’s gotta say it!”

Tetsurou glances over at Kenma, who’s raising an eyebrow at Daichi as if to say  _ see what I mean.  _ Koushi, however, gives a hearty laugh. “God, at least you all will keep me entertained,” he says with a wink. 

“Back on subject,” Keiji says, returning with a cup that he pushes into Koutarou’s hands. “The album is great, Tetsurou, Daichi, Koushi.” He looks over to where Kiyoko is sitting with Yukie, calmly sipping at a drink while Yukie shoves appetizers into her mouth. “Kiyoko as well, of course. I’m sure all of you must be very proud.”

“A toast!” Koutarou says, taking the cup out of Keiji’s grip. “To Black Claw, and to the great things to come!” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Koushi says eagerly.

“To great things to come,” Daichi says, looking as though he half-believes it himself. 

They clink their glasses together and drink up, and the warmth fills Tetsurou’s chest all over again. It just feels right, somehow. Like he was meant to end up here. Like this is where he’s supposed to be.

He feels happy, he realizes, and it only makes him smile all over again.

.

“Good morning, Tetsu,” Koushi greets him as they meet at their bus at seven fucking thirty in the morning.

“How can you be so chipper,” Tetsurou moans, and then remembers that back in high school, he’d often purposely gotten up as early as five or six thirty to get in a morning jog before practice. He wonders what kind of monster he’d been back then.

Kiyoko’s already on the bus, curled up and sleeping on one of the couches, while Daichi is simply sitting on the other end, reading a book or something. Tetsurou heads straight to the bunks, calling, “Don’t wake me up unless someone is dying.”

The label had called them a few weeks ago, informing them that they would be going on their first tour with Bluecastle and Iron Wall. Tetsurou had been a little disappointed; he’d hoped they’d get to tour with Catfight, or at the very least with Full Soul, and the idea of spending six weeks on the road with Tooru Oikawa is a little concerning. But he’ll deal, he figures.

He emerges from the bus later that day, after they’ve arrived at their first stop, only to hear Tooru saying, “Tetsu! You didn’t tell me your new band member is so refreshing.”

He blinks blearily to see that Koushi is standing beside Tooru, a grin on his face. “I admit, I am,” he says with a wink.

“And so confident! What a treasure,” Tooru says.

Yes, Tetsurou thinks - touring with Bluecastle had truly been the worst idea ever. He sighs. “Yes, Tooru, meet Koushi, enjoy each other.” 

“Oh, I will!” Tooru says, looping an arm around Tetsurou’s shoulders. “And we finally get to tour together! After I spent so long hearing about you from Pudding Head!”

“Kenma talks about me?” The idea seems kind of ludicrous, somehow, but he supposes it makes sense. Over the past couple of years, Kenma has become one of his closest friends. Tetsurou certainly doesn’t shy away from talking about Kenma to whoever will listen, but the idea of Kenma talking about him feels like a shock.

“All the time,” Tooru says with a shrug. “Kuro told me this, Kuro did that, Kuro made this stupid joke. And he didn’t even talk  _ that  _ much to me, so you can imagine how often it is.”

“Can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

“Ouch! Tetsu, you wound me.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on,” Hajime interjects, “but I already agree that you deserve it.”

“Hajime! Come get lunch with us! And Tetsurou, too!” 

So just like that, he ends up getting dragged down the street to a random cafe with Koushi, Tooru, and Hajime. Tooru, in proper Tooru fashion, orders the cutest-looking thing on the menu - some kind of pink and purple toned pancake with strawberries and whipped cream on top. “I don’t know how you don’t weigh five hundred pounds with the way you eat,” Hajime says, shaking his head.

“Ah, Haji! My cuteness burns all the calories,” Tooru says.

Koushi laughs. “I wish that was me,” he says forlornly. “I still have to go jogging in the mornings when I can, or my stomach starts to become like a beer dad’s.”

Tetsurou bites into his sandwich, wanting to speak up about how Kenma, also, enjoys sweet things, how Kenma manages such a terrible diet but is still tiny, but after Tooru’s gleeful revelation of how often Kenma talks about him, Tetsurou fears that a similar revelation would be made to Kenma. He shrugs. “I heard that there’s a new scientific study going around saying that being obnoxious burns calories.”

“That’s untrue,” Tooru says, sticking out his tongue. “But speaking of obnoxious, you know who’s obnoxious? Wakatoshi Ushijima from Powerhouse.”

“Wakatoshi?!” Tetsurou asks, raising an eyebrow.  _ That  _ certainly had been the last person Tetsurou would’ve named. “What the fuck did Wakatoshi do? He’s always been polite to me, at least.”

“He said we should duet!” Tooru complains. “Who does he think he is?”

Tetsurou glances over at Koushi, who seems similarly confused. Koushi blinks before saying, “But isn’t it a compliment if someone wants to duet with you? Like, it means they think you’re talented.” 

“Not like this,” Tooru pouts. “He said that my voice would’ve sounded better if it was in combination with his or something, and that I should’ve just been a backup singer for Powerhouse.”

“He didn’t say that,” Hajime says dryly. “He did say that Tooru’s voice would be better if it was with his, though, and then that he should’ve been a part of Powerhouse, which is rude as fuck.”

“Wakatoshi said that?!” Tetsurou snorts. “I think he was trying to compliment you. He’s just a little socially awkward at times. I’m sure he wasn’t actually trying to say you should be his fuckin’ backup singer - I say as someone who’s known him for a couple years now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tooru says, crossing his arms. “I’ve already been offended.”

“It’s not great to hold onto grudges so intensely,” Koushi says brightly. “I’ve found life is much more fun if you let go of your grudges. Or - if you just get quick revenge on them, and then move on with your life.”

Tooru’s eyes brighten. “Revenge, you say?”

“Okay, okay,” Tetsurou says, trying to interrupt before this can go any further and they can plot out revenge on an innocent, albeit socially awkward dude. “Hey, uh, anyone heard anything about the new, uh, Pokemon game that’s coming out next year?”

Tooru, Koushi, and Hajime all look at him with identical looks of skepticism on their faces. “Tetsurou,” Tooru says calmly, “you truly do spend too much time talking to Pudding Head.” For once, Hajime just nods in agreement with Tooru. Tetsurou feels his cheeks flame up.

It’s true that it’s something he’d heard about from Kenma, but well, is that a bad thing? Is that an indication that he talks to Kenma too much? Sure, he talks to Kenma a decent amount, probably more than almost anyone he knows, but that’s not a  _ bad  _ thing.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he pointedly ignores Tooru and digs back into his sandwich.

.

Their first show of the tour goes well, at least in Tetsurou’s opinion. The audience seems ecstatic. Some of them even shout the lyrics back at Tetsurou - which Tetsurou finds impressive, considering the album has only been out for a short period of time. Koushi adds life to the show, where Daichi and Kiyoko are steady, but deliver impressive performances. And then, once the show is over, they head out to greet fans. 

“I’m starved,” Tetsurou says with a grin after they’ve talked to the last band member. “Kinda forgot how much it takes out of you to perform. Anyone want to get food?”

Koushi and Daichi make eye contact, then shake their heads, but Kiyoko nods. “I could go for a bite,” she says.

They end up in some weird diner that’s open 24 hours, both with steaming plates of breakfast food in front of them. Tetsurou feels awkward for the first few minutes. So far, Kiyoko is the band member that he’s gotten to know the least, and he finds that it’s hard to find something to talk about with her. She helps him out, though, by breaking the silence with a, “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” Tetsurou lifts an eyebrow at her.

She gives a small shrug. “I know that Daichi and Koushi are both from backgrounds where they have been in bands already and have been able to prove themselves. But you took a chance on me, even though I have not been in any big name bands. I appreciate that.”

“I’m just that kind of a person,” Tetsurou replies automatically, the smirk stretching his face. When she just stares at him, he says, “It’s fine, you don’t have to thank me. You’re talented, so of course I’d want you in my band. In fact, I’d say it’s more of you doing me a favor.”

“I suppose,” Kiyoko says thoughtfully.

“I’m also a little surprised to hear you say that, honestly. I was under the impression that you hated me or were annoyed by me at the fuckin’ least.”

“I admit that I had my reservations at first,” Kiyoko says. “You seemed like the type of guy I have had bad experiences with in the past. But… I think I’m starting to realize that that’s not the type of guy that you actually are. Especially seeing the way that you interact with, uh, other bands.”

It’s a strange statement, Tetsurou thinks, extremely vague but also somehow targeted. He blinks. “What, you mean Koutarou?”

“Him, as well as Kenma,” Kiyoko says gently. “I’ve heard about how you helped his band to get signed and how the two of you have been close ever since, despite the fact that you are fairly different, personality-wise. I think it’s sweet. And from the one time I’ve seen you together, you seem… softer, somehow, when you’re around him.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s not sure how exactly he’s softer around Kenma, but he does feel as though there’s something different in the way he interacts with Kenma when compared to everyone else, something that he can’t put a finger on. He puts his head in his hands, lifts an eyebrow at Kiyoko. “I guess,” he says, and then, eager to change the subject, “So, let’s get to know each other. Tell me what your purpose in life is.” 

“Little bit of a complex question for a first dinner,” Kiyoko says flatly, but she starts in telling the story of how she’d seen a band perform as a child, listened to the lead singer’s speeches about gender equality, and hoped to be able to use music as a platform for her to advocate for various types of equality as well. He can’t help but grin and nod along as he listens to her story - he’s always had good instincts about people, after all, and now he has yet another great band behind him. 

He’s starting to think he might be lucky after all.

.

Tooru is a lightweight. It’s something Tetsurou had always suspected about the other guy, but nothing he’d experienced before until this very moment. He’s leaning on Hajime’s shoulder to keep himself from falling at the bar they’re at, while Takahiro whips out his phone to film and Issei snickers in the background. 

“If I had to date a guy,” Tooru slurs, “like, if someone held a gun to my forehead and said date a guy or like, fucking die, I dunno. Koushi is pretty - “

“I appreciate that,” Koushi says, while Daichi gives him an unimpressed look.

“Koushi’s pretty, and has a good personality,” he continues, undeterred. “Tetsu - not my type, sorry to say!”

“Not your type?!” Tetsurou crows. “I’m everyone’s type! Kind, attractive, funny, caring - “

“Humble,” Daichi adds darkly. 

“Clearly!” Tetsurou says.

“There’s just somethin’ about your face.” Tooru laughs. “Like, it makes you look a little like there’s somethin’ up your sleeve, or a little like a creeper, you know!” Tetsurou gasps, but Tooru isn’t finished. “Anyways! Daichi, hot but too serious, and if I wanted a guy like that I could just date Hajime! Who would also be a good option ‘cause he’s my best friend and we know each other s’well already! So my best options right now are Hajime and Koushi!”

“Hang on,” Hajime interrupts. “Who says I’d want to date you and be stuck with your annoying ass all the time?”

Tooru ignores him. “Makki and Mattsun are always bullying me,” he says with a pout, “so I don’t wanna date either of them.”

“Thank god,” Takahiro breathes at the same time Issei says, “We didn’t want you anyways, trust me.”

Tetsurou can’t help but snort, and he hears Kiyoko exhale softly beside him as well. He’d been a little worried about Tooru getting on her nerves, but regardless, she seems to manage well enough. 

Tooru’s eyes flick over to where Iron Wall is seated. “Kaname is kind of pretty,” he says.

“You would steamroll him in a matter of five seconds,” Kenji Futakuchi, who’s evidently been eavesdropping, replies with a roll of his eyes. “Stay the fuck away from my band.” Kenji’s the prickly one in the band, then, Tetsurou notes mentally. Every band has one. 

“Well, I was just about to compliment you, Kenken~ But I won’t anymore! You don’t deserve my compliments!”

“Good,” Kenji says snottily. “I didn’t want your greasy ass fake compliments anyways.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Kaname says. 

“He doesn’t!” the tiniest one in the band - Kousuke, Tetsurou thinks - adds eagerly. It’s almost adorable.

Takanobu Aone nods as if in confirmation. “Kenji loves compliments,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“Shut up,” Kenji says, turning his glare on Takanobu, although Tetsurou notices it has considerably less venom when it's directed at Takanobu. 

“So I wouldn’t date Kenji,” Tooru continues, “because he’s bitchy, and Kousuke seems like a baby - no offense, Kousuke - and Takanobu, I think, is scared of me, so that just won’t do.” 

Takanobu blinks, but doesn’t refute this statement - probably, Tetsurou’s sure, because it’s true. Takanobu has always been a little bit more fearful than other people Tetsurou has met in the scene, especially for a lead singer. 

Tooru finishes it off with, “So I guess of the people in this room, it’s Hajime or Koushi!”

“You can have him,” Hajime grunts, nudging Tooru off of his shoulder towards Koushi, who wrinkles up his nose in response. Tetsurou tries not to laugh at the pure ridiculousness of the scene.

“What about you, Tetsu? If you had to date a guy, who would it be?” Tooru says, giving Tetsu a cheeky grin, his cheeks flushed a dangerously dark shade of pink.

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “Is this something that normal people talk about?” He frowns, sipping at his beer.

“Course!” Tooru insists, crossing his arms and puffing out his lip. “Just answer the question!”

Tetsurou doesn’t want to date any of them, he thinks as he looks around the room. Tooru is  _ Tooru _ , which is an explanation in and of itself. Hajime is too harsh and might actually crush him for making one of his terrible jokes. Daichi also might murder him; he’s pretty sure he’s felt Daichi contemplating suffocating him with a pillow some nights on the bus. Koushi seems like he has something up his sleeve, and even beyond that, he kind of gets the vibe that Daichi is protective of Koushi - like if Tetsurou says Koushi, he might get suffocated in his sleep as well. Takahiro and Issei would probably bully him as much, if not more, than they do Tooru right now. All of the members of Iron Wall are a no-go, for much the same reasons that Tooru had said himself. If he had to date a guy, then, he’s pretty sure he’d choose someone outside of the room.

He tries not to think too much about why the first name that pops into his head is Kenma’s. He’d thought about it before, of course, about how easy it would be to just date Kenma if Kenma were a girl, but there’s something uncomfortable about actually voicing the thoughts.

“You’re allowed to choose people outside of the room, right?” Kiyoko asks.

Tetsurou looks at her, raising an eyebrow. He’s not sure why she’d ask that - much less when it’s Tetsurou’s turn - but there’s a little hint of a smile playing at her lips. Tooru looks like he’s thinking for a moment, though he’s probably not. “Yeah, I guess so! Hey, Kiyo, you’re not allowed to participate in this one, though~ I’ll be sure to make a super hard question just for you, if you want.”

“How the fuck does he manage to get even more annoying when he’s drunk,” Hajime says gruffly.

“Well, Tetsu, what’s your answer!”

He can’t say Kenma. There’s something in his mind that’s crushing down on him, telling him that saying Kenma will be dooming himself as he looks around at the expectant faces of his band members and the other band members around him. It feels like giving something away, even though… 

Even though it’s becoming more and more obvious that Kenma is who he would choose.

“Well, then Bradley Cooper, of course,” Tetsurou says, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Not even a question.”

“That’s a wimp answer!” Tooru cries. “I went through and analyzed each person in the room, and you can’t even tell me a real person you’d want to date? And you’re not even half as drunk as I am! Koutarou  _ lied _ when he said that you were fun!” 

Daichi grabs onto Tetsurou’s arm, as if in warning, but it’s too late. That’s a challenge if Tetsurou’s ever heard one. Tetsurou is not exactly one to back down from a challenge. He picks up a shot off of the bar and downs it in one gulp, then licks his lips and grins. “Bring it on, pretty boy.”

Tooru’s eyes light up as he picks up his cup. “To a night of bad decisions,” he says. Tetsurou clinks their glasses together.

“Don’t you make enough bad decisions on your own?” Hajime grumbles. 

“More than enough,” Issei and Takahiro say in unison. 

Tetsurou has to admire how Tooru pretends not to hear them, instead ordering a strawberry margarita, which gets him teased all over again about not being able to handle ‘real’ alcohol. Tetsurou just orders another shot and gulps it down.

He wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and absolutely no memory of the night before. There’s lipstick smeared on the collar of his shirt and his hair is even messier than usual and he thinks,  _ a hell of a way to forget. _

He doesn’t remember much of the rest of the tour. He and Tooru get banned from a grocery store, apparently, and photos surface online of him dancing suggestively with various different people, wearing underwear on his head, and walking around in Kiyoko’s high heels even though they’re much too small for him. They get a lot of different comments and captions as they circulate the internet, but Tetsurou can’t even bring himself to care these days.

He feels like he’s running from something, but he doesn’t even know what’s chasing him. It’s a sharp sort of irony.

.

The next year dawns. Kenma calls him on New Year’s Day.

“Happy New Year,” he mumbles into the phone.

Tetsurou checks his phone - 8 AM flashes on the screen. “Have you slept?” he asks suspiciously.

“Mmm,” Kenma says. “Sleep’s just a state of mind.”

“God, Kenma. You need to get more rest,” Tetsurou says, trying to suppress the inexplicable anxiety rising in his chest. 

“You’re one to lecture me about health,” Kenma mumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kuro,” Kenma says, his voice low. “I saw the pictures from your latest tour. Is everything okay?”

“Of course I’m fine,” Tetsurou says. There’s an edge to his voice and a tightness in his chest that he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want to explain it to Kenma because he doesn’t quite know how to. “I was just having fun. And you know, Tooru kept challenging me to drinking competitions and shit, so it’s not like I could say no without looking like a little bitch. That’s it. No need to be so worried all the time, god.”

“Okay,” Kenma says, but it doesn’t sound like he believes him. “Sorry for asking.”

There’s a tinge of hurt in Kenma’s voice, and Tetsurou immediately feels bad. He sighs. “I’m just… tired of talking about it, I guess. People keep asking about the photos, trying to get the latest scoop. Some gossip magazines say I’m addicted to drugs and shit. My parents are calling me all worried. And now you. It’s just too much.”

“People are just worried,” Kenma says flatly. “But we don’t have to talk about that. Uh, did you make a New Year’s resolution?”

“I don’t know,” Tetsurou exhales. “Not really. I just want to be better than the year before. Release an album this year. Keep doing what I love.” Get rid of whatever’s been bugging me, Tetsurou thinks, but can’t say. 

“That’s a resolution that’s easy enough to keep.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says, exhaling. “If I don’t make some stupid decision and end up in a ditch before then.”

“You shouldn’t,” Kenma says. There’s some sort of tension on the line between the two of them.

Tetsurou hates it. Hates himself for making it weird and not knowing why. Hates himself, because he can’t stop thinking about Kenma when he’s not talking to him, but actually talking to Kenma feels like hell. 

Even after they hang up the phone, Tetsurou lies back and stares at his ceiling, completely alone - only the sound of his heartbeat to keep him company. He’s got to move past this, he thinks. He’s got to figure out what’s going on and find a way to move on from it. There’s no way he can survive otherwise. 

He tries to think back on how he’d moved on from Bethany, but there just hadn’t been much to get over back then - attraction, maybe, but not much else. They’re better off as whatever they are now - occasional texting, acquaintances, or whatever. They were never meant to be in a relationship.

Or at the very least, Tetsurou thinks: he was never meant to be in a relationship. 

.

Full Soul releases their third album. Tetsurou gets the call from Koutarou inviting him to the party, and contemplates not going. He’s still too in his own head and having Koutarou around, who always encourages Tetsurou to do crazy shit, probably won’t be beneficial to Tetsurou figuring his shit out, not to mention Kenma will almost certainly be there. But Daichi and Koushi and Kiyoko are all going, so he doesn’t want to have to explain why the entirety of the rest of Black Claw is there but he isn’t. He sucks it up and goes.

“This is our best album yet,” Koutarou boasts, grabbing onto Tetsurou’s shoulder with one of his hands. “Seriously, man. Just wait till you hear it. Keiji’s lyrics  _ \-  _ they just hit you in the heart!” 

“They always do,” Tetsurou says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I believe you though, man. Can’t wait to hear it.”

Koutarou pushes a beer into his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Drink up, dude. But you’d better not be tryin’ to dance with any of my band members unless it’s me!” 

“‘M loyal to you, dude, you know that,” Tetsurou says. He stares at the beer for a second, then gulps half of it down in a long sip until his lungs sting from air deprivation. He gulps it down and gasps for air. The sting feels like a relief. 

Koutarou gapes at him. “Duuuude,” he says, hitting him on the back to help the air enter his lungs all over again. “No wonder you’re getting fucked up every night if you’re drinking that fast.”

“Need some shots,” Tetsurou says. “This is too inefficient.”

“Haaaa, that’s what I like to hear,” Koutarou says. “Lemme go get us some.”

As Koutarou walks off, Tetsurou’s eyes search the crowd until they land on Kenma. Kenma looks uncertain as their eyes make contact, probably because he’s been feeling the weird tension from Tetsurou. Tetsurou can’t take it. He gives Kenma a tiny, reassuring smile, determined not to fuck up the one time they’ll see each other in the next few months, determined not to hurt Kenma. Kenma half-smiles back and makes his way to Tetsurou’s side. Tetsurou drapes an arm around Kenma’s shoulders as he usually does, though it feels half-hearted and strange. “Long time no see,” he says, forcing a grin.

“You smell like alcohol,” Kenma says flatly.

“I had a beer,” Tetsurou says. “My tolerance is way higher than that.” 

“It’s not going to stop there,” Kenma says. 

He’s right, Tetsurou knows, but he’s not in the mood to argue with Kenma again, so he just shrugs. “It’s a night of celebration, you know how it is.” 

Kenma sighs, and Tetsurou tries to think of the words to say to keep the conversation going. He doesn’t like how it feels somewhat awkward between them these days. “It’s nice to have everyone in one place again,” he says, finally. “How are Lev and Sou and Taketora?”

Kenma groans, seeming a little bit more like his Kenma finally. “Obnoxious,” he says. “Lev thinks we’re like some big-name band now that we have a couple of fans. Tora’s trying to leverage the fame to get a girlfriend, I’m pretty sure, but the problem is that he has no idea how to talk to girls.”

Tetsurou grins, nudging Kenma lightly in the side. “Look. He’s trying to talk to Kiyoko.”

“God help him,” Kenma mutters under his breath.

Tetsurou can’t help but cackle as Taketora tries to give Kiyoko a drink but ends up spilling half of it all over her shirt. He then frantically grabs ahold of Lev and demands that Lev get him tissues, and the two of them try to dab at Kiyoko’s shirt until Yukie gets tired and drags Kiyoko off with her to the bathroom. Once Tetsurou catches his breath again, he looks over at Kenma who has a similar look of amusement on his face, but it brightens his eyes and his entire face and makes him look fucking gorgeous for some reason.

Tetsurou’s throat feels dry. He finds he’s desperately in need of another drink.

.

He doesn’t see Kenma again for a few months, as he’s on tour with some bands from their label he doesn’t know as well. He spends most of it drinking to disguise the fact that he can’t fucking stop thinking: about Kenma, about the fact that Kenma is  _ attractive _ in a way that he’s only found girls attractive, about the fact that there’s no way he’s fucking gay, not when he loves women as much as he does. He goes to clubs to try to pick up some girls, but finds he can’t quite finish what he starts, for lack of a better terminology. His brain has been like, fucking hijacked or something. Maybe the weird fanfiction writers were right. Maybe he is actually attracted to Kenma Kozume.

He doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that. 

He misses the release party of Catfight’s second album, though: they have a show across the same country that same night. Feeling guilty enough to override his desire to avoid all things Kenma-related, he gives Kenma a call. 

“Sorry I can’t be there,” he says. “You know I’m still Catfight’s biggest fan though, right?”

“I don’t know,” Kenma says. “There’s this girl who keeps coming to all of our shows, every single one of them. She knows things about me that I don’t even know.”

“Like what?!”

“Like what time I was born, at what hospital, stuff like that.”

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Yeah. I think it’s a little… creepy. But she’s definitely a contender for Catfight’s biggest fan.”

“Hey, excuse me. If that’s what I gotta do, then I’ll go search up all the Kenma Kozume fun fact sites and memorize all that shit. I gotta keep my position, after all.”

“Are you gonna do it for Lev and Sou and Tora, then? I’m not the only member of Catfight.”

“Oh, fuck no. Never mind.”

Kenma laughs quietly. It’s gorgeous. Tetsurou’s heart skips a beat. 

_ Fuck. _

He makes himself stay on the line for a little longer, talks about what it’s like to tour with the other bands, asks about what Catfight has planned for the near future. It’s nice to talk to Kenma again, even if he can’t stop his traitorous brain from whirring the entire time about how nice his voice sounds and how nice it would probably sound if - 

Nope. Derailing that train of thought altogether. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. 

He can’t push away the images for the rest of the night, though, causing him to attempt to get rid of the sexual frustration with Kenma still on his mind, and his guilt only increases tenfold. 

.

It all comes to a head that summer when his label tells him that he’s going on tour for the entire summer with Full Soul and Catfight. He can’t decide whether the emotion that bubbles up inside of him is dread or excitement or some odd mix of both.

The first few days are normal. He hangs out with Koutarou, goes out dancing, drinks way too much, ignores the looks that Daichi gives him, and, despite what his heart is telling him, does his very best to avoid Kenma. But one day, he barges onto the Catfight bus, looking for Taketora who’d promised to go drinking with him, Koutarou, and Yukie. Unfortunately, the only person on the bus is Kenma. Kenma, who looks at him with hurt in his eyes, and says, “Kuro.”

Tetsurou Kuroo is a terrible person.

He takes out his phone to send Koutarou a quick text to cancel their plans and flops down onto the couch beside him. “Hey, just the person I was looking for.”

Kenma gives him a withering look. “Yeah, right.”

Tetsurou sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. Things have been… complicated, recently, but I’m still being stupid. And I’ve missed hanging out with you. So…”

“So stop being stupid,” Kenma says, like it’s that simple.

Kenma always knows just what to say, huh. Tetsurou feels his mouth curve up. “Hey, hey, fine, I’ll do my best. Wanna play some Mario Kart?”

“You suck at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, but you like kicking my ass.”

“I guess.”

He does. It becomes obvious after he grins when he laps Tetsurou for the second time in a race. Once they finish, and Tetsurou can feel Kenma’s smugness practically radiating off of him, he turns towards him with a frown on his face. “I was doing my best! Not all of us can be gods of video games like you are, you know.”

“Your best sucks.”

“Excuse me!” Tetsurou yelps. He turns towards Kenma, hands outstretched, and starts to tickle him. Kenma bats him away, quiet laughter bubbling out of him mixed with quiet insistences that Tetsurou stop. And after a minute, Tetsurou does.

But he finds that he’s basically pinning Kenma to the couch below him, and Kenma’s looking up at him with a red face and his eyes are glued to Tetsurou’s lips, like he’s waiting for something, and  _ Tetsurou cannot hold back anymore. _

He surges forward, capturing Kenma’s lips in a kiss. 

Kenma is still for a second, and Tetsurou is afraid - afraid that he’s overstepped a boundary, read the situation wrong, somehow, completely lost Kenma forever. But then a switch seems to flip on in Kenma’s brain, because he starts moving quickly, tangling his hands in Tetsurou’s hair, pulling Tetsurou closer on top of him. 

Kenma Kozume is going to be the death of him, Tetsurou thinks. Because right now he feels like he’s been lit on fire and is smoldering from the outside in.

His hand starts to drift lower without Tetsurou even noticing it, down Kenma’s back, dangerously low, but before he can get too far the door handle rattles. 

Tetsurou startles and falls off of the couch.

“Tetsu, dude, I thought I’d find you here,” comes Taketora’s voice as he walks inside and over to the couch. “You good? Shit, you been drinking without us?”

“I’m fine,” Tetsurou manages, pushing himself back up to a sitting position by his elbows. “I was just down here wallowing in my misery because Kenma beat me in like, five fuckin’ Grand Prixs in a row.”

“He’s unbeatable, man,” Taketora says, shaking his head. “He’s like a machine or somethin’!” 

“I am not,” Kenma says. His voice is still slightly breathy, and Tetsurou waits with bated breath to see if Taketora will figure anything out. “You’re just upset that you can’t even beat me in Mario Party.”

“Mario Party isn’t even a game of skill! It should be impossible for you to win every time, you cheating motherfucker! But just wait, my willpower will make me  _ crush  _ you next time!” 

Tetsurou looks over at Kenma. Their eyes meet, and Tetsurou can’t help but break into a grin: a grin representing the boundary they’ve just crossed; a grin representing the fact that he desperately wants to do it again, to go further next time; a grin representing the anxiety bubbling up inside of him because  _ what the fuck does this mean _ ? Is he gay? What is he?

But no - it’s not like that. Tetsurou’s heard rumors of other people who are like this, who hook up with guys in other bands or sometimes even their own band while on tour. Perhaps it’s the proximity; perhaps it’s the relative lack of women while on tour (those in your own band are certainly off limits); but always it’s a casual thing that only lasts for the tour, and it doesn’t have to mean anything about the people in question’s sexuality. 

So if he wants this - if  _ Kenma  _ wants this - if no one else knows - well, then it’s harmless, isn’t it? Just a little bit of stress relief on tour with an attractive guy, who also happens to double as one of his best friends.

Harmless, really, he thinks as he goes back to sit on the couch beside Kenma and Taketora sits down with them to play some Mario Party so that Taketora can prove his worth. Harmless, as the warmth of Kenma’s arm presses against Tetsurou’s, and Tetsurou gulps to himself.

Harmless, he thinks, and he can’t wait to do it again.


	6. The Fast Times

Every heart is like a house on fire with escape routes in every room  
These are the trials of our youth

But this charade is never going to last  
So pick the poison and pour yourself a glass  
I still feel the same  
No one's to blame

\- _Coppertone,_ The Academy Is...

  


Two days pass, and Tetsurou finds that he cannot stop thinking about it. 

The memories play on repeat in his head. They only get worse each time he sees Kenma, and, given their current situation, he sees Kenma a lot. However, there’s not an opportunity to do it again - every time they’re together, there are people around. Koutarou, encouraging them to go out dancing with him; Keiji, mumbling with Kenma in low voices about the game Kenma had bought; Taketora harassing them to hang out with him; Lev and Sou, talking to them loudly about nonsense; Koushi wanting to get brunch. Even if they try to escape to a bus, there’s always someone there - Fukunaga seems to have taken up permanent residence on the Catfight bus, as though he’s hiding from something, and Daichi, Koushi, and Kiyoko tend to hang out on the Black Claw bus to talk shit and drink wine, which Tetsurou thinks is far too classy for the tone of the tour. But then, the third night is a hotel night. 

  


Tetsurou goes to the front desk to request an upgrade to a single room. 

  


When he turns around, he sees Koushi behind him, raising an eyebrow. “Single room, hmm?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Got big plans for the night?”

  


_ Don’t let it get to you.  _ If he acts suspiciously now, it’ll reveal that there’s something going on, but if he’s casual about it, he’ll be just like every guy in a band who’s hooked up with someone they met in a club ever. “Need to release some tension,” Tetsurou says with a shrug and a smirk. “It’s been a while.”

  


“Fair enough,” Koushi says. “Considerate of you to get a separate room for it rather than kick one of us out.”

  


“I’ve always been a kind person,” Tetsurou says dramatically.

  


“If you say so,” Koushi replies cheerfully. There’s something in his eyes, though, that Tetsurou fears: something that indicates that he suspects something’s up. Suspicion means nothing, though, if he has nothing to go on. Tetsurou picks up the card to his room and walks off, paying Koushi no mind. 

  


The show that night feels more heated than ever. Kenma comes on stage with Black Claw to perform their song, and Tetsurou finds that he can’t help the way that he revolves around him, steps closer to him, puts his arm around his shoulders and feels the heat. The fans go wild for it. Tetsurou remembers the stories that they write and thinks, if they only knew. 

  


After the show, Tetsurou looks around to make sure no one’s paying attention, takes ahold of Kenma’s wrist, and pulls him along. 

  


“Kuro?” Kenma asks. “What -”

  


Tetsurou doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know what the hell he could even say -  _ come with me so we can fuck  _ seems a little bit vulgar. He makes it to his hotel room, throws open the door, pulls Kenma in, and then closes the door so that he can haul Kenma up against it to roughly connect their lips. 

  


It’s hot and messy, their teeth clashing. When Tetsurou pulls back for just a second to catch his breath, Kenma looks up at him, lips red and pupils dilated, and says in a low, breathy voice, “Tetsurou.” 

  


_ Holy fucking shit.  _ Tetsurou nearly explodes on the spot. Kenma calling him ‘Kuro’ all the time means that right now, hearing him call him  _ Tetsurou  _ like that - it’s too much. He needs Kenma. Needs him so much that he feels like he’s going to die. 

  


He connects their mouths again, hoisting him up by his thighs so that he can throw him onto the bed. He stares down at Kenma, at the way Kenma’s looking up at him with the same absolute need that he’s feeling, and he  _ knows  _ what’s about to happen.

  


Good thing he’d stopped by the corner store for some supplies beforehand, he thinks wryly, as he dives back in.

  


.

  


They lie side by side in the bed afterwards, a couple of inches of space between them. Tetsurou has the urge to reach out for Kenma, but thinks that it would be too much. This is just a physical thing: they’re not dating or anything, so it’s not like there’s any reason to cuddle afterwards. Still, he feels an unquenchable urge to stop Kenma from leaving.

  


“Well,” Tetsurou says finally. “It’s gonna be an interesting tour.”

  


Kenma’s laugh is quiet. “To say the least.”

  


“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou says. “That’s, uh, that’s why I’ve been acting weird.”

  


“Oh. I mean… it’s okay. This is… okay.”

  


“Only okay?! God, what a lackluster review.”

  


“Hm.” Kenma pauses. “I guess we’ll have to do it again so I can reconsider my rating.”

  


Tetsurou nearly chokes at the undertone in his voice. He’s still not ready for round two, but if Kenma’s talking like  _ that  _ and looking like  _ that,  _ he might be getting there pretty fucking soon. 

  


He rolls onto his side to take in Kenma completely - his hair down, for once, long and graceful, a curtain of glorious hair framing his face. He’s ethereal. The same boy that Tetsurou had met years ago, and yet different, somehow. 

  


If Tetsurou were into guys for something besides fucking, then - well, he’s ready to admit that Kenma would definitely be his best option. 

  


“Hey,” he says, because there’s something heavy in the air between them that’s starting to freak Tetsurou out a little bit. “Kenma. Why do you think we’re here?”

  


“Here, in this room?” Kenma asks. “Because that was your doing.”

  


“No,” Tetsurou says. “Like, on this planet. What’s the meaning of life?”

  


Kenma blinks, his stare piercing. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “I guess there’s no meaning. You live, you do whatever, you die either way.”

  


“Bit nihilistic.”

  


“You asked.”

  


“I feel like sometimes I don’t know what the hell I’m doing all this for,” Tetsurou admits. “But I just want to make people happy, make their lives better. So I guess that’s the meaning of life for me.” He smiles a little bit. “It does feel a little more meaningful now that I’m with Black Claw, though, so there’s that. So, uh… thanks, I guess.” 

  


“I didn’t do anything.”

  


“You encouraged me to try something new,” Tetsurou says quietly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  


There’s a heaviness in the air between them as they just look at each other. Lying there, naked under the covers, with Kenma by his side, it’s the most vulnerable that he’s ever felt. But Kenma says, “Okay,” in a tone that says that he understands, understands the undertone laced with the words Tetsurou hadn’t said, and Tetsurou feels a rush of warmth rush over him. If only Kenma was a girl, he thinks yet again.

  


If only he could reach out into the space between them and take hold of Kenma.

  


But he can’t - he won’t. 

  


.

  


They fall into a routine. It’s hard to find places to hook up while on tour, but they get creative - bathrooms, port-a-potties, anywhere private. Tetsurou quickly familiarizes himself with the lengths of Kenma’s body, with the sounds Kenma makes, with the things that Kenma likes. Kenma is surprisingly vocal. Not that Tetsurou himself is exactly quiet, either, but when they’re in a more public place, Tetsurou often has to shut him up in any way possible - a hand over his mouth or a mouth on his mouth. 

  


Being with Kenma is simple, uncomplicated. Maybe because they don’t give a name to the relationship. It’s just hooking up, nothing else to it. No feelings involved. Just sex, plain and simple.

  


It makes him feel alive though, somehow. It feels like a release. He doesn’t have to drink as much these days, because he can feel the same kind of thing through sex with Kenma. It gives him a natural high, and Tetsurou can’t get enough of it.

  


Koutarou pushes a drink towards him, his perpetual stupid grin on his face. “Drink with me, man.”

  


“Nah, not tonight.” Tetsurou pushes it back. “I’m takin’ it easy tonight, dude.”

  


“That’s boring,” Koutarou says, and then grabs onto Taketora’s wrist. “Tora! Tetsu’s ditchin’ me, so you’re my drinking buddy now.”

  


Yukie glares at him. “What am I, chopped liver?”

  


“You always make fun of me for not being able to hold my liquor as well as you,” Koutarou complains. “You’re no fun to drink with!” 

  


“Well, for how big you are, your tolerance should be a hell of a lot higher!” Yukie argues back.

  


Tetsurou just grins, turning back to the bar and picking up his glass of water. He takes a long, slow sip, and almost doesn’t notice when someone sidles up beside him. 

  


“You’re not drinking alcohol,” Kiyoko says matter-of-factly.

  


“Just water for me tonight,” Tetsurou replies with a smirk. “I’ve decided to start considering my liver. Pretty sure it’s been yellin’ at me for my decisions the past few weeks.”

  


“Hm,” Kiyoko says, her gaze intent on him in a way that’s all too familiar. “You’ve seemed happier these past few days. Did something happen?”

  


_ Did something happen?  _ Unbidden, images flash through Tetsurou’s mind - Kenma pinned underneath him, flushed and sweating, little noises slipping through his mouth as Tetsurou presses their damp foreheads together and then presses his lips to Kenma’s. Did something happen, indeed. But obviously Tetsurou can’t say that. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he says. “Guess it’s just nice being on tour with my friends again.”

  


Kiyoko gives a slight nod, though it doesn’t look like she fully believes him. “Well, regardless of the reason, I’m glad to see it,” she says. “We were a little bit worried for a while there. Daichi suggested that we stage an intervention.”

  


“An intervention?” Tetsurou gulps a little bit, trying to imagine what a Daichi intervention would look like. “Shit. Please tell him it’s not necessary.”

  


“I’ll consider it.”

  


Tetsurou smiles. “How are you, though? How are you adjusting to life on tour? This is the first time you’ve ever gone on tour like this, right?” 

  


Kiyoko gives a slight nod. “It’s been fine,” she says. “Besides the kid from Catfight attempting to romance me.”

  


“Shit. I’ll get Kenma to tell him to back off.”

  


“If you don’t mind. Besides that, though, it’s fine. Having Yukie around is refreshing, even if she can be a little much sometimes. And Lev’s sister has been following the tour, so I have been able to have lunch with her a couple of times, and I’ve really enjoyed her company.”

  


Tetsurou hadn’t noticed that there was a girl following them on this tour, much less Lev Haiba’s sister. He wonders if that makes him a terrible person, or if he’s excused for having been a little bit distracted with what he’s begun to fondly refer to as his Great Kenma Crisis. Still, he says, “I’m glad to hear that. And I apologize that most of the guys on this tour are total fuckin’ idiots.”

  


“I’m not sure if you can exclude yourself from that.”

  


“Ha, yeah, shit. I guess that’s fair.”

  


Kiyoko gives a little laugh, jerking her head towards the dance floor to indicate where Tetsurou should look. Out on the floor, Koushi has dragged Daichi out to the center, dancing outlandishly very close to Daichi’s body. Daichi looks like he’s about to die on the spot. Tetsurou grins wolfishly. “Koushi has no fear, huh.”

  


“I feel for Daichi,” Kiyoko says, “but not enough to save him from this.” 

  


“It’s nice that they’re that close,” Tetsurou observes. “And they’ve been friends for a while, right? It must be nice to have someone like that on tour.”

  


Kiyoko glances over at him, her expression that of slight confusion, which Tetsurou doesn’t completely understand. He’s about to ask about it when they’re interrupted by another voice. Kenma slips in beside him, an expression of discontentment on his face. “Lev’s trying to get me to dance,” he says by way of explanation.

  


Tetsurou rests his arm around Kenma’s shoulder, drawing him in close. It feels wrong these days to be around Kenma without touching him somehow, even though he’s desperately trying not to be obvious. He’s always been touchy with Kenma, though, so he figures that being weird and awkward and never touching him would be even more obvious that something’s up between them. Kenma leans into his touch almost automatically. “I think you should,” Tetsurou says. “Go dance, that is.”

  


Kenma’s glare is withering. “With  _ Lev _ ? I think I’d rather die.”

  


“He’s kind of endearing,” Kiyoko says. “In the way that a giant, kind of clueless puppy might be.”

  


Kenma tilts his head away, his shyness momentarily returning now that he’s remembered that Kiyoko is listening. Still, he mutters in his typical sassy fashion, “You go dance with him, then.” 

  


Kiyoko shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever want to do.” Tetsurou laughs, squeezing Kenma’s shoulder. Kiyoko looks in between the two of them, something too knowing in her gaze, before she gives a slight nod. “I’m going to find Yukie and encourage her not to completely destroy her liver. Have fun, you two.”

  


Tetsurou’s hand travels down Kenma’s arm, finally reaching his hand. He stretches out to intertwine their fingers. After making sure no one’s watching the two of them, Tetsurou says, “Want to get out of here?”

  


“I thought you’d never ask,” is Kenma’s soft response.

  


It’s a hotel night, thankfully. Tetsurou pushes Kenma into the mattress, takes in the flush of Kenma’s cheeks, the tiny smile on Kenma’s lips before Tetsurou sets himself to the task of attacking Kenma’s neck with his mouth. He listens to the quiet sound of Kenma’s moans. When he pulls back to look at Kenma’s face, he can’t help but freeze for a second, taken aback by Kenma’s beauty. Tetsurou’s heart squeezes.

  


Just sex, he reminds himself. Just for the carnal pleasure of it all. No feelings involved. Just for this tour.

  


“Tetsurou,” Kenma says, his voice breathy and low -  _ God, will that ever stop making Tetsurou feel like he’s detonating from the inside out?  _ “Is something wrong?”

  


Tetsurou takes a second to regain his composure before he leans back down. “No,” he says, and then, “besides the fact that you’re still wearing clothes.”

  


Kenma gives him a  _ look _ that says that his line had been terrible. Still, he stretches up to let Tetsurou pull off his shirt, then attacks Tetsurou’s t-shirt as well until they’re pressed chest-to-chest again, the thrum of Kenma’s heartbeat pressed flush against Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou can’t help the grin on his face.

  


Then, the scariest thought of all enters his mind. 

  


_ I want this. Not just for the summer, but for longer. _

  


He pushes the thought away, because it’s ridiculous - Tetsurou doesn’t even like men, really. He just likes hooking up with them. Or rather, one. He couldn’t picture himself hooking up with Koutarou or a random dude off the street or any other guy. It’s just Kenma that he wants to do this with.

  


But it’s just physical, he tells himself, so it’s fine.

  


It doesn’t do much to assuage the gnawing feeling of anxiety in his stomach.

  


.

  


“Six,” Koutarou bellows, picking up a card from the circle and proudly displaying it to the rest of the group. “Chicks!” 

  


“At least it’s not only me that has to drink at this one anymore,” Yukie groans, holding up her glass to toast Kiyoko. They both take a big, long sip. 

  


Yukie’s turn comes next, and she flips over the card, displaying a  _ two _ . She grins. “You,” she says, pointing at Tetsurou. 

  


“You all are trying to ruin my streak of not getting drunk,” Tetsurou says, giving Yukie an accusatory glare. Still, he’s not one to back down from something he’s said that he’s going to do, so he takes a sip of his drink.

  


The game keeps going on like that. Kuroo ends up getting mated to Koutarou, and then somehow manages to get Yukie involved in their little hell circle as well. Yukie and Koutarou are both terrible at half of the little games involved in King’s Cup, so they end up constantly having to drink, dragging Tetsurou down with them. He ends up getting pretty fucking drunk for the first time in a while. However, he’s not the only one. 

  


Kenma leans against his shoulder, ever the affectionate drunk. He takes one of Tetsurou’s hands in both of his, playing with Tetsurou’s fingers. Looking up at Tetsurou with obvious bedroom eyes, Kenma says, “I love your fingers.”

  


Tetsurou chokes on his drink. 

  


Everyone’s gazes are fixed on them now. Tetsurou’s alcohol-addled brain is not able to process what’s happening, much less what he should do. The best - and - only idea he comes up with is to stand up abruptly, grabbing Kenma’s hand to pull him up too. “He’s - uh - a little bit, you know,” Tetsurou says, which he’s aware makes no sense at all.

  


“I’m fine,” Kenma mumbles petulantly, but he’s swaying from side to side, which makes it obvious that he’s not.

  


“I’m gonna take ‘im back to the bus,” Tetsurou says.

  


“Hahaha! Take him back!” Koutarou hoots, making it obvious that Koutarou is just as far gone, if not more so, than the other two.

  


“Tetsurou,” Kiyoko says. “Are you sure you’re okay to take him back?”

  


“I’m pretty dead sober,” Daichi adds. “So I can take him back if you want. I don’t mind.”

  


“No, it’s fine.” Tetsurou’s not sure why, but the idea of someone else taking Kenma back to his bus when he’s like this, clingy and touchy, makes a fire simmer in his stomach. He musters up all the sobriety within him to deliver a very confident, “I can definitely get him back safely.”

  


Kenma’s head is buried in his arm now, nosing at the skin of his upper arm. Daichi and Koushi exchange a quick look, and then, probably deciding it would be too much work to separate the two, give a nod. “Okay,” Daichi says. 

  


“We’ll be back at the bus in a couple hours!” Taketora slurs, beaming. “Keep our good ol’ Kenma alive till then!” 

  


“Kuro definitely will,” Kenma says confidently, pressing his lips to Tetsurou’s arm. Tetsurou swallows and prays that no one else noticed.

  


“See ya soon, Kenma!” Lev calls as they leave. Kenma mutters a bitter  _ let’s pray not  _ under his breath as they leave, a small reassurance that Kenma isn’t completely fucked.

  


Tetsurou pulls Kenma along by his hand. Thankfully, the Catfight bus isn’t too far from the Full Soul bus, otherwise Tetsurou’s pretty sure he would’ve gotten lost. He pulls Kenma onto the bus, helps him get into his pajamas, helps him into his bunk, and is about to leave when Kenma grabs his arm. 

  


“Don’t leave,” Kenma says, an undertone of command in his voice that freezes Tetsurou in his tracks. “Please. Tetsurou.”

  


His voice is low and needy. Tetsurou is drunk and very weak.

  


“Kenma, baby,” Tetsurou says, the pet name tumbling out of his lips - probably because he’s just that drunk, Tetsurou thinks, to the point that he doesn’t filter literally anything that he’s saying. “We can’t do anything. You’re drunk, I’m - ha, I’m also drunk!” 

  


“We don’t have to do anything,” Kenma says. “I just… I want you here.”

  


Tetsurou swallows harshly. In a normal situation, if he were sober enough, he’d refuse, tell him to get some sleep and he’d feel better tomorrow. But he’s drunk, and he can’t fucking think, and he’s apparently so, so weak for Kenma Kozume.

  


So he climbs into Kenma’s bunk.

  


The bunk is tiny. Tetsurou has to bend his long limbs every which way to be able to fit, and even then he’s crammed in. Additionally, he ends up basically on top of Kenma, almost every inch of their bodies touching. Kenma doesn’t seem to mind, though, instead shifting their positions so that he’s almost on top of Tetsurou. 

  


They kiss lazily, languidly. It’s not their usual kisses, packed with heat and clearly headed towards a single destination. It feels as though this kiss itself is the final destination, and that makes it feel softer, somehow. More tender. 

  


After a few minutes, Kenma’s kisses become less and less, until finally he curls up with his head on Tetsurou’s chest and closes his eyes, his breathing becoming more even as he drifts off to sleep. Tetsurou cards a hand through his hair as he looks down at Kenma. 

  


It’s a line they haven’t crossed. All the times that they’ve hooked up, they’ve fallen asleep an arms length apart, not touching at all. Tonight, though, they hadn’t even hooked up, just kissed, and now they’re fucking cuddling. But Kenma is too peaceful now; Tetsurou would feel bad trying to move him. So Tetsurou just closes his eyes.

  


Friends cuddle all the time, right? It’s a perfectly platonic thing. He’s cuddled with Koutarou a couple of times. It doesn’t have to mean anything at all.

  


That’s what he comforts himself with as he drifts off to sleep, Kenma’s weight comforting against him.

  


.

  


“Oh my god!” is what Tetsurou wakes up to the next morning. At least, that’s what he thinks he hears - it’s so high-pitched that it’s essentially unintelligible. He blinks into awareness, realizing with a start that the bottom of the bunk above him is a different color than the one he’s used to. The next thing he realizes is that there’s a warm body beside him. 

  


_ What the fuck happened last night?  _

  


He’s never woken up in another band member’s bunk, besides one time he and Koutarou had experimented with some weird drug in a club and woken up in Koutarou’s bus together. But that was Koutarou. There’d never been anything even close to romantic between the two of them.

  


But, as he looks over to find a sleepy-looking Kenma blinking at him, he’s sure that this is not even remotely similar to the Koutarou situation.

  


Then it hits him what had happened last night. Little bits and pieces: the King’s Cup game, bringing Kenma back to his bunk, not wanting to leave, kissing Kenma in his bed before they’d fallen asleep.  _ Shit.  _ He rolls over, away from Kenma, to see Lev staring at them with big eyes.

  


“Hi, Lev,” Tetsurou mutters, rubbing at his head. 

  


“Tetsurou!” Lev shrieks. “You and Kenma are -  _ gay?! _ ”

  
For fuck’s sake. Tetsurou sighs, pushing himself out of the bunk and wincing at the rush of nausea and pain that hits him upon standing up. “I brought Kenma back here last night because he needed help getting home. Then I realized I was too drunk to get home so I just crashed here.”

  


“We have a couch, you know,” Shouhei points out.

  


“I could barely walk, much less process that the couch was available,” Tetsurou gripes, clutching his head.

  


“You were  _ cuddling, _ ” Lev says in a hushed, awed whisper.

  


Kenma finally sits up enough to glare at Lev. “Lev, it’s too early for you to be this fucking annoying,” he says. 

  


Lev’s eyes widen. It’s obvious now more than ever how Kenma is the top dog of his band; Lev seems to be a little bit terrified of Kenma, especially as his response is a much quieter, “Sorry, Kenma. I was just surprised.”

  


“There was no room in the bed,” Kenma says, pushing himself out of bed and trooping to the bathroom. On the way, though, he touches Tetsurou’s elbow with an uncharacteristic gentleness. “Thanks,” he mumbles, so low no one else can hear it. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  


Well, it’s not the worst way Tetsurou’s been kicked out of a hookup’s house, to be sure. He’s glad that they’re at least at the next city so he can get on his bus without having to wait around awkwardly.

  


“Where were you?” Daichi asks when he boards the bus. “We tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Is everything okay?” 

  


“I crashed with Kenma,” Tetsurou says, forcing himself to make eye contact so as not to be suspicious. “We were both pretty fucked and I didn’t trust myself to make it back in one piece.”

  


“Kenma’s all right?” Daichi asks. 

  


“Yeah, he’s just not super happy with Lev for waking us up.” Tetsurou sighs. “And probably pretty fuckin’ hungover. Which I’m feeling right now. Hey, we got any Tylenol?”

  


“You’d better be grateful for me,” Koushi says, tossing him a pill bottle from where he’s sitting on the couch. 

  


“I am forever in your debt,” Tetsurou says sarcastically, popping a pill and washing it down in some water. “I’m gonna go nap before the show so I’m not a fuckin’ zombie on stage. Wake me up when you’re ready to practice.”

  


He and Kenma don’t talk about the kiss, about the fact that they’d cuddled, and Tetsurou has absolutely no idea what it could mean. But he can’t make himself be the one to bring it up. Bringing it up feels like it would be shattering the careful equilibrium that they’ve fallen into. It’s better to just… let it go on. See how it evolves naturally.

  


Right?

.

  


Inspiration comes much more organically for their second album. Unfortunately, a lot of it comes from writing about Kenma.

  


It’s normal, he thinks. Kenma is a major part of his life. The person he spends the most time with, and now, the person that he has what’s arguably the most complex relationship in his life: lovers, but without the emotions; best friends; the person who he knows the most about but still can’t completely get a handle on. His feelings spill easily into his notebooks that fateful summer on the Toyota Tour, scrawling words across the pages. 

  


Kiyoko takes a look at what he’s working on one day and says, “A love song?”

  


_ A love song?  _ No, it’s just about Kenma; the lyrics aren’t necessarily romantic. They represent a totally platonic attachment. He narrows his eyes at her. “It’s just a song.”

  


“My mistake,” she says, though she doesn’t sound like she believes him. “Anything in particular that inspired you?”

  


“My ex-girlfriend,” Tetsurou lies. 

  


In truth, he still texts Bethany occasionally, as he does his exes from high school, but never anything substantial. He never thinks about their relationship in enough depth to be sad about it, much less write a song about it.

  


“Hm,” Kiyoko says. “I wasn’t aware you had an ex-girlfriend. You’ve never talked about her before.”

  


“Yeah, well. She’s engaged now. Not like I have a chance anymore.” Tetsurou’s a terrible fucking liar, but he can’t exactly tell the truth. 

  


The tour ends with a festival held by Koutarou’s record label, which means that Bluecastle shows up to join them along with Wakatoshi’s band, who had recently signed to Koutarou’s label as well. Tooru skips over to greet them. “Aw, Tetsu and Pudding Head in one place,” he says, ruffling both of their hair. Perfectly in sync, both of their hands fly up to bat his hands away.

  


“Don’t call me Pudding Head,” Kenma says, sounding pained.

  


“But it’s so fitting!” Tooru says with a frown. “You look so delectable! I could just eat you up!”

  


Tetsurou’s contemplating the merits and consequences of just decking Tooru straight in the face when they’re interrupted by a deep voice saying, “Hello, Tetsurou, Kenma… Tooru.”

  


_ Wakatoshi’s on this tour too. _

  


Remembering Tooru’s rant about how rude Wakatoshi is, Tetsurou grins. This show just got a lot more interesting.

  


“Go away,” is Tooru’s immediate response.  _ God, how blunt is this guy?  _ Tetsurou can’t help but think.

  


“Tooru,” Wakatoshi says, sounding pained. “I just came to say hello. Also, Satori has informed me that he has heard that I have offended you in some way, so I came to apologize in case that is the truth. I also wanted to greet my friends Kenma and Tetsurou, of course.”

  


“It’s not a fucking apology,” Tooru grits out, “if you don’t even know what the hell you’re apologizing for.”

  


“I realize now that suggesting that you become a backup singer for my band was a little bit out of line.”

  


“A little bit?!”

  


“Hey, hey,” Tetsurou interrupts, putting one arm around Tooru’s shoulder and the other around Wakatoshi’s. “Let’s all get along here. My boy Waka’s just a little bit socially awkward. He didn’t know how else to express his raging mancrush on you.” 

  


“Raging mancrush?” Wakatoshi repeats, sounding positively mortified, while Tooru shoves Tetsurou away, saying, “What the hell, you’re such an asshole.” Kenma’s looking at him with a tiny, mildly amused smirk on his face, probably because he’s secretly just as evil as Tetsurou.

  


“Apology not accepted,” Tooru snaps at a slightly crestfallen looking Wakatoshi. “As a general rule, I try not to judge people by their first impressions, but unfortunately you’ve made me have to change one of my best qualities, because there’s no way you can redeem yourself from that one in my eyes, ever.”

  


“I just meant to say that I was a fan of your voice. That is all. The rest was… unfortunate phrasing.”

  


“Did I stutter?” Tooru snaps. Wakatoshi’s face falls a little further, and Tooru sighs. “I just… get the feeling that you think a lot of yourself, that’s all. Therefore! You and I are destined to clash, Waka.”

  


“It’s Wakatoshi,” Wakatoshi says stiffly.

  


“Exactly! You can’t even handle a simple nickname,” Tooru scoffs.

  


“To be fair,” Kenma says, not looking at the two feuding boys, “your nicknames are terrible.”

  


“You’re all just haters,” Tooru huffs. He gives them an indignant look over his shoulder as he walks off.

  


“I feel like I really don’t understand Tooru sometimes,” Tetsurou says to Kenma.

  


Kenma just shrugs. “Sometimes,” he says, “I don’t think that Tooru even really understands himself.”

  


They make their way over to greet the rest of the members of the band. “Sorry,” Hajime says, casting a glance over to where Tooru’s sitting on one of the couches, staring at a magazine, his grip tense on the pages. “He’s been in an awful mood all day. Honestly, I have no fuckin’ clue what’s going on with him.”

  


“Who knows,” Tetsurou replies. “Maybe he’s homesick or something.”

  


“We just left home yesterday,” Hajime says, but shrugs. “Still. Maybe.”

  


“Or maybe it’s just his natural terrible personality,” Takahiro says with a laugh.

  


“It’s not usually  _ that  _ terrible,” Issei amends.

  


“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

  


“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Wakatoshi says. “Truly.”

  


Hajime eyes him suspiciously, a degree of suspicion that Tetsurou thinks is fairly unwarranted. After a second, he relaxes a slight bit and shrugs. “He’ll get over it.”

  


The festival goes well, regardless of Tooru’s moodiness. Tetsurou gets to perform his song with both Kenma and Wakatoshi on stage with him, and finds it’s a lot easier when he doesn’t have to compensate by singing Wakatoshi’s part. He also finds that once again, he naturally gravitates towards Kenma’s orbit, often invading Kenma’s space - an arm around his shoulders, a nose in his hair. The crowd goes wild. Tetsurou winces internally; he’s just encouraging the writers. He’s sure that there will be a story about him and Kenma fucking backstage after a show after this little performance.

  


Not that it’s too far from the truth nowadays. 

  


After the show, they head out to meet some fans. Tetsurou stands with his band members, but Kenma positions Catfight right beside Black Claw, so that Kenma’s still standing by Tetsurou’s side. Which turns out to be a recipe for disaster. 

  


“You guys are so cute,” the first girl in line squeals. 

  


“Uh, thanks,” Tetsurou says, grinning. “Y’know, I take a lot of pride in my adorable appearance - “

  


“You and Kenma!” she continues, not missing a beat. “Tetsuken is like, my favorite ship. I hope you guys get married.”

  


_ Married?! _

  


Tetsurou’s brain malfunctions. 

  


It’s the first time he’s been confronted with the weird relationship stuff in person. He’s aware that it happens, that there are plenty of people out there that want him and Kenma to be  _ together _ in whatever way possible, but it tends to stick to the internet. But now there’s a fan in front of him telling him in no uncertain terms that she wants him to get married to Kenma.

  


_ What the fuck. _

  


“Uh…” Tetsurou says, his mouth dry all of a sudden. He swallows, tries to get his bearings. “Sorry, but I’m into women.” He forces his usual grin onto his face. He starts to wonder if it’d be too much to just flat out say  _ I like boobs, sorry,  _ and decides it probably would be. “Kenma’s cute, but unfortunately still a dude.”

  


Kenma glances over at him. Shit, Tetsurou had forgotten he was listening. His expression doesn’t change, though. He simply just gives a small nod. “People are allowed to be friends,” he says flatly.

  


“Amanda!” comes a chiding voice from behind her. A hand comes up to smack her in the side of the head, and another girl approaches, crossing her arms. “Sorry,” she says apologetically. “I told her it was weird to talk about ships with real people.”

  


“I want to talk about ships!” A sing-song voice rings in Tetsurou’s ear, loud and annoying. Tooru plants a gross, wet kiss on Tetsurou’s cheek. “Who do people ship me with? I bet they ship me with everyone, because I add so much life to every relationship.”

  


Well, at least Tooru’s returned to his usual spirits. Tetsurou pushes him off and wipes his cheek. “God, how do you know about this shipping shit?”

  


“I’m very involved with my fandom, Tetsu.”

  


“Too involved, it seems,” Kenma mutters. 

  


“People usually ship you with Hajime,” Amanda says eagerly, her eyes big, like she’s been waiting to have a discussion like this. “But there are people who ship you with everyone! Tetsurou, Kenma, Koutarou - “

  


“Ah, yes, all the beautiful men.”

  


“Even some with Wakatoshi - “

  


“You’re fucking kidding me,” Tooru groans. “What did I ever do to deserve that?”

  


“You did say you wanted to be shipped with everyone,” Kenma points out, a tiny smile on his lips, one that Tetsurou now recognizes as his patently evil smile. “Wakatoshi is a part of everyone.”

  


“I didn’t think everyone included Satan. Forgive me.”

  


“Bit overdramatic there.”

  


“Don’t worry,” Amanda’s friend says. “People mostly ship you two together because you’re both hot. But the fandom is majority Hatooru.” 

  


“Ah, then I suppose that’s acceptable,” Tooru says with a sleazy smile, before he also gets hit in the back of his head. 

  


“Need I remind you that you’re not a part of Black Claw or Catfight,” Hajime says roughly. “Bluecastle - the band that you’re a part of - is over  _ there. _ ”

  


“I just wanted to say hi to my friends!” Tooru exclaims. 

  


“You can do that later,” Hajime gripes, grabbing onto Tooru’s forearm and pulling him over to join Takahiro and Issei. Tetsurou watches them go and shakes his head. 

  


“Anyways,” Amanda says. “I was hoping you could both sign my  _ Roam City  _ album. Especially since Kenma featured on the lead single - well, it’s like he’s an honorary part of Black Claw, you know.”

  


“That’s what I always tell him,” Tetsurou says, grinning proudly over at Kenma, who rolls his eyes in response. 

  


They both sign the album, though, and then take a photo of the both of them with Amanda. Out of some kind of rotten curiosity, when Tetsurou gets a chance later on, he looks up Tetsuken again. Inevitably, people have posted the photo of the two of them with Amanda and captioned it with “Tetsuken!!”. Somehow, people have even tried to remove Amanda from the photo so that it’s just Tetsurou beside Kenma. Tetsurou blinks. 

  


_ Tetsurou and Kenma were extra handsy at the show tonight,  _ someone writes.  _ I wonder if something’s going on there.  _ Someone else writes,  _ They’re literally the cutest couple in bandom! They’ve made me revive my faith in love! _

  


Well, your faith in love is gonna stay dead, then, Tetsurou thinks. Because he’s definitely not in love with Kenma Kozume. 

  


Not even a little bit.

  


.

  


Later that night, Tetsurou says goodbye to Kenma. 

  


“You’re coming to the release party in October, right?” Tetsurou asks. “So it won’t be that long before we see each other again.”

  


“If I don’t get sent off on tour again,” Kenma says with a shrug. “But you know how unpredictable these things can be.”

  


“Unfortunately,” Tetsurou says with a grimace. “Whatever. I get the feeling we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” 

  


He hugs Kenma close, Kenma’s head buried in Tetsurou’s chest. He wonders if he should find it weird that he doesn’t say goodbye like this to anyone else. He’d done his trademark handshake with Koutarou, patted Keiji on the back, given Yukie a quick squeeze, ruffled Lev and Sou’s hair, clapped Shouhei on the back and wished him the best. But well, it’s true that his relationship with Kenma is nothing like his relationship with any of them. He plants a soft kiss on the top of Kenma’s head. 

  


“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not around,” Kenma says simply.

  


“I take offense to that. I never do anything stupid, ever.”

  


“I talk to Keiji, you know, and Keiji has a list of all the dumb shit Bo’s ever done. Half of which you’re involved in in some way.” 

  


“Shit. God. Tell me he doesn’t have photographic evidence?”

  


“For some of them he does.”

  


“Oh god.”

  


“You should wear maid outfits more often.”

  


“How the hell did he get photo evidence of that?! Hey - don’t you dare laugh, Kenma Kozume, I’ll have you know that I looked fucking  _ fantastic. _ ”

  


“Sure you did.”

  


He hugs Kenma again, because Kenma’s sassy and sarcastic and occasionally rude, but Tetsurou wouldn’t want him any other way. “Soon,” he promises, a whisper into Kenma’s ear.

  


“I’ll do my best to get to the album release party,” Kenma promises.

  


But he doesn’t. 

  


Catfight ends up playing a show with fucking Crowfeathers on that date across the country, the band that Tetsurou’s become a bit resentful of because it’s the one with fucking  _ Shouyou _ , Shouyou who Kenma talks about like he hung the stars. Tetsurou knows that he has no reason to care, really. But he does. 

  


Kenma calls him to congratulate him, at least. He sneaks away from where he’s seated at the bar with Koushi to take the call. 

  


“Hey,” Kenma says, his voice quiet. 

  


“Hey,” Tetsurou says. 

  


“Congratulations. Your second album with this band. That’s a big milestone.” 

  


Tetsurou smiles a little bit. “It feels big. The party is bigger than the last one, even. Koushi planned it, and I’m pretty sure he invited half of the country. Don’t even know how he knows all these people. Probably better that you’re not here. You’d hate it.”

  


“I’d just hide with you,” Kenma says simply. “People tend to bother me less when you’re around.”

  


It feels like a confession of sorts. Tetsurou tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. Fucking Kenma. “Well, that’s good,” he says, and then, “But thanks. Wish he’d followed through on getting the giant ice sculpture of my face, though.”

  


Kenma snorts. “What the hell would you do with that?”

  


“I would keep it forever. Until it melted, at least. Like, how badass do you have to be to get a fuckin’ ice sculpture of your face, you know?”

  


“Does it count if you get the sculpture made of yourself?”

  


“Oh, shut up, would you? It’s badass either way.” He pauses for a second, thinks he hears someone chattering in the background of Kenma’s call. Tetsurou glances down at his phone. It’s 11 PM; Kenma’s show has been over for an hour or so now. “Hey, where are you right now?”

  


“I’m… in my hotel room,” Kenma says, slowly.

  


Tetsurou feels his chest give a little squeeze. “You’re talkin’ really quietly. Is someone with you?”

  


“Yeah,” Kenma says, and Tetsurou feels weird about the undertone in his voice: both challenging and guilty. “Shouyou. He came over to watch a movie.”

  


_ Watch a movie.  _ It’s the most obvious euphemism of them all. Tetsurou feels the rage rising in his chest, then dials it down because it’s not like they’re exclusive. They’re not in a relationship. Tetsurou wouldn’t be in a relationship with a guy, after all. Therefore, Kenma is free to have sex with whoever the fuck he wants to, just as Tetsurou is. So why the hell does it feel so wrong? Why does the thought of Kenma hooking up with the tiny orange kid from Crowfeathers make him feel like he wants to vomit?

  


Tetsurou forces a smile onto his face.  _ C’mon, serotonin, I need you,  _ he tells his brain.  _ Get these thoughts out of my head.  _ “Oh,” he forces himself to say. “That sounds like fun.”

  


“Kuro, I…” Kenma sounds like he’s about to say something, but then changes his mind at the last minute. “Yeah. There’s this stupid movie he’s been dying to watch, and he didn’t want to watch it alone.”

  


“Well, I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

  


“You aren’t,” Kenma says firmly. 

  


“I should get back to the party, anyways,” Tetsurou says, the prospect of talking to Kenma suddenly a lot less appealing now that Tetsurou’s aware that Kenma has someone waiting for him. Someone who’s not him. “Have fun with Shorty. I’ll see you soon.”

  


“Kuro, wait.” Kenma inhales. Tetsurou wonders what the hell he could be about to say, but then he says, “I’m, uh. I’m proud of you. All of you.”

  


It’s not a sentiment Kenma often expresses. Well, to be truthful, Kenma doesn’t really express sentiments at all. Being on the receiving end of one of Kenma’s compliments makes him feel warm all over. A little bit of the tenseness fades from his body. “Thanks,” he says, trying to make his voice as warm as he can, and then, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

  


“Yeah,” Kenma breathes on the other end. “Me too.”

  


“Kenma!” comes a higher-pitched voice.  _ Fucking Shouyou. Fucking Crowfeathers. Fuck.  _ Tetsurou resists the urge to rip out his own hair. “Kenma, are you coming or not? I forgot how to pause the DVD player and it’s about to start.”

  


“There’s literally a pause button,” Kenma says.

  


“No, there’s not! I looked like ten times and I didn’t see it.”

  


_ Is Kenma into idiots?  _ Tetsurou thinks, and then makes himself stop the bitter thoughts. He laughs into the phone. “Well, it looks like you’re needed, so I’ll get back to the party. Have a good night.”

  


“I… yeah,” Kenma says. “Bye. Talk to you soon.”

  


Tetsurou’s head won’t stop buzzing with stupid images of Kenma and that tiny redhead, so he makes a beeline to the bar. “I need a shot of whatever the strongest shit you’ve got is,” he says.

  


Daichi, who’s joined Koushi at the bar, gives him a look of concern. “Thought you’d cut down on the drinking,” he says.

  


“I have. I just need it tonight,” Tetsurou says, grabbing the shot out of the bartender’s head and downing it quickly. 

  


Koushi pats his shoulder gently. “Is everything okay?” he asks. “If you need something… to talk, or something -”

  


“I don’t,” Tetsurou says firmly. He grabs another shot and takes it as well. “I’m gonna go dance. You know, like you’re supposed to do at a fucking _ party _ . Have fun wallowing alone by the bar. Think you two are the ones that need help.”

  


Koushi pulls his hand back like he’s been scalded, a look of hurt on his face. “Just because you’re hurt,” he says in a dark tone, “that’s no reason to drag innocent people into your pain.”

  


Tetsurou can’t help but feel a little bad. With a sigh, he says, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t need to talk right now. I just need to not think for a little while.”

  


“Not the healthiest way of dealing with your problems,” Kiyoko, who’s apparently joined them, says softly.

  


“I’ll deal with them tomorrow, I swear,” Tetsurou says, giving them a quick wave. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. See you later.”

  


“By that logic,” he hears Daichi mutter, “we could do almost anything.”

  


Tetsurou makes his way through the crowd, ignoring Daichi’s shady comment. He finds a girl in the crowd - relatively short, blonde, a sultry look in her eyes, and pulls her forward to dance with him. They move together in the crowd, her pressing his body up against him, his hands dipping lower and lower as the night passes, feeling the curves of her body, warm against his hands. When she beckons towards the door, he’s hesitant for a second, before he remembers - Kenma’s free to fuck other people, is probably doing exactly that at the moment, so he’s absolutely free to do the same. He takes her hand and follows her out.

  


However, it isn’t that easy to get Kenma out of his head, he finds.

  


She’s all but naked on the bed in front of him, her eyes wide and needy, and Tetsurou can’t stop comparing her to Kenma. He can’t stop thinking about how much better it would be with Kenma, how well Kenma’s already learned the nuances of where Tetsurou likes to be touched, how weird it feels to not be touching a dick. And he can’t make himself do it. 

  


“I’m sorry,” he groans as he pulls his shirt back onto his body.

  


“S’fine,” the girl says. “You can’t make yourself. Shouldn’t make yourself.”

  


“Yeah,” Tetsurou says with a nod. “Well, thanks for understanding, I guess. What’s your name?” He feels a swell of guilt that he hadn’t asked before. He’d never wanted to be that kind of guy - the guy that fucked without even getting to know them first, then never talked to them again, but he’d fucked up tonight in every possible way.

  


“Annie,” she says.

  


“Let me buy you food, Annie. Make it up to you.”

  


They end up at a 24-hour McDonald’s, not exactly the classiest joint ever, but the only one open at the late hour. Annie tells him about her life: how she’s a photographer for concerts, and was excited to score an invite to Black Claw’s release party. Tetsurou laughs, tells her they’re not that cool, and Annie replies that she’s well aware of that now. 

  


“But there’s always a lot of gossip going around about you guys,” Annie says in between bites of her hamburger. “You’re not dating Kiyoko Shimizu?”

  


Tetsurou nearly chokes. Somehow, despite his heterosexuality, he finds that the rumor of him dating Kiyoko is even more egregious than the one of him dating Kenma. “No,” he says. “Definitely not. She can do much better than me.”

  


Annie nods. “I guess that makes sense. Never thought of you as the type to cheat.”

  


Tetsurou shakes his head. “Yeah, no. Once I date someone, they’re stuck with me.” 

  


“You’d make a good boyfriend someday,” Annie says. “Once you get past the, well… you know.”

  


He doesn’t ask for her number after he takes her back to her hotel room, and she doesn’t offer it. Still, Tetsurou feels a little better - even as he gets a message from Kenma saying,  _ the movie was terrible for the record & i no longer trust shouyou’s taste.  _

  


He closes his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I want to thank you all so much again for reading and for your support, first of all. All of you that have been telling me that you love the fic and think about it a lot - truly, it means the world to me, given how much effort I've given this fic, so thank you again!!  
> This chapter finally got to that M rating a bit, but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless. Also, yes, Kuroo is kind of an idiot in this fic. Forgive him. He's figuring it out.  
> Thank you all again!


	7. Cold Cold Man

_ You're the only one worth seeing _

_ The only place worth being _

_ The only bed worth sleeping's the one right next to you _

\- Cold Cold Man, Saint Motel

It's only a month later he and Kenma end up on tour together again.

The tour is with bands Tetsurou doesn’t know that much about - Airplanes in Winter, White Leopard, bands whose music Tetsurou likes, but has never talked extensively to the members of. However, Catfight is also on this tour, which automatically makes it a good tour. Still, Tetsurou can’t help but be a little nervous at the prospect of seeing Kenma again.

Kenma pops up on their bus as soon as they arrive at the first city, though. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Koushi says with a shake of his head. 

“What?” Daichi says, his expression exaggerated and surprised. “You mean Kenma isn’t actually a member of our band?”

“Shut up,” Kenma mumbles, looking embarrassed. “I just came by to say hi.”

“Hey,” Tetsurou says, shooting a grin at him, then pulling him close for a hug. “We’re officially touring partners again, it looks like.”

“What do you think are the chances that Tetsurou begged the label to put Catfight on our tour?” Koushi asks.

Kiyoko hums. “I’d say, realistically, close to 95%.”

“I’d go higher,” Daichi says. “99%, take it or leave it.”

“You’re all assholes,” Tetsurou gripes, suddenly reminded of how things were with Morisuke. It sends him a sudden pang of missing his old band, his old band members. But he’d caught up with them recently and they’d been happy, thriving even. And - 

All of a sudden, the door to the bus opens again. This time, another person enters.

“So this is your new bus?” comes an all-too-familiar voice.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tetsurou says. “Morisuke?!”

“It’s better than our shitty ass bus ever was,” Morisuke continues, undeterred. “Though the same visitor comes along with it, I see.”

Tetsurou grins, standing up to give Morisuke a hug. Morisuke pulls Kenma into it as well, which Kenma allows, and Tetsurou places a tentative hand on Kenma’s back. “The hell are you doing here?” Tetsurou asks. 

“Meet White Leopard’s new drummer,” Morisuke announces, jabbing a tiny thumb into his chest. “These must be my replacements, huh?”

“Daichi Sawamura,” Daichi says, extending a hand. “You’re Morisuke Yaku, previous drummer for Neko, right?” 

“My reputation precedes me,” Morisuke says, looking pleased. 

“Kiyoko Shimizu,” Kiyoko says, giving him a nod. “I’ve also heard of your talent.”

“I’m Koushi Sugawara,” Koushi says with a grin. “I guess I’m your actual replacement, since I’m the drummer of the band now. Not half as good, though, or good-looking.”

Morisuke’s mouth turns up. “I like this guy,” he says, clapping Koushi on the shoulder. “He recognizes talent when he sees it, unlike some people I know - and yes, I’m talking about that jackass over there. Sorry you all have to deal with him.” 

“We are too,” Daichi says, and Kenma snickers. 

“Excuse me,” Tetsurou says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Last year I got named Alternative Press’ most eligible band frontman of the year. You should all be groveling at my feet for a taste of me.”

Morisuke fake gags. Kenma rolls his eyes. “Ignore him,” he says. “He thinks too highly of himself.”

“Whaaat,” Tetsurou says, putting his hand on Kenma’s shoulder. “How exactly should I think of myself? As the scum of the earth?” 

“Yes,” Morisuke and Daichi say in sync. Kenma just nods.

“I should’ve never introduced all of you,” Tetsurou says, crossing his arms to have a little it of a pout. “Now I just have a group of bullies after me.”

“If you’d stop being a piece of shit,” Morisuke says sharply, “we wouldn’t have to bring down your ego so much.”

“If I was a weaker man, Morisuke, your words would hurt.” Still, he grins. This tour is going to be a fun one, he can’t help but think. 

Even more fun when, later that night, he has Kenma pressed up against the wall of the bathroom stall, his hands fisted in Kenma’s hair and mouth attacking Kenma’s neck. He tilts his head to the side to let Kenma bite at his neck in return. In a breathy whisper, he says, “I’ve missed this.”

Kenma blinks, then attaches their lips again, a little more frantic this time. “Me too,” he says, his voice low. “It’s never been - like this.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know exactly what he means, or maybe he doesn’t want to know. But there’s something inside of his chest that’s echoing the same sentiment.  _ It’s never been like this for me either.  _ He thinks maybe that he’s never been this addicted to a person before, but doesn’t want to dig deeper into what that could mean. So. instead, he loses himself in the feeling of Kenma’s lips and tries to make himself forget about anything else.  _ Doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t mean anything. _

.

Tetsurou finds very quickly, though, that being reunited with Kenma is enough to make him forget about the fact that their tryst is a secret and they should be trying not to get caught, lest rumors about their sexuality surface and their fans have even more food to feed their Tetsuken agenda. He realizes this when he gets up to pour his cereal the next morning and, after looking at him, Daichi spits out the milk in his mouth.

“What?” Tetsurou says, giving Daichi a look. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Daichi manages, his expression somewhere between shocked and heavily amused.

“I knew you weren’t just taking a really long shit in the bathroom last night,” Koushi says.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Tetsurou sets down his cereal, striding over to the bathroom and looking in the mirror, when he suddenly is hit with a wave of  _ holy shit.  _ Kenma had left hickeys all over his neck, hickeys that are highly visible in the t-shirt he’d worn to bed last night. He frantically rubs at them with water, but it only seems to make them an angrier red.  _ Fuck.  _ He’s sure Kenma’s neck is in a similar state. What the hell had they been thinking?

After a minute of regaining his composure, Tetsurou emerges from the bathroom, a grimace on his face. “Either of you have a turtleneck, by any chance?”

Koushi snorts, then hides his smile behind his fist. Even Kiyoko has an expression of amusement on her face. Koushi says, “Yeah, I’ve got a couple that you can borrow. But holy shit, Tetsurou.”

“Your lovers seem to be very possessive,” Kiyoko observes. “Interesting if it’s merely a one night stand.” 

“Whatever,” Tetsurou gripes. “Just help me cover them up. I don’t want our fans making up crazy rumors about how Kiyoko and I are involved in a wild tryst that’s resulting in beautiful, albeit with all kinds of fuckin’ problems, lovechildren.” 

“Are there rumors like that spreading about us?” Kiyoko asks. She sits for a moment in silence. “You’d think they’d at least pair me with the most attractive guy in the band.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” 

Koushi, after a little bit more teasing, gets him a turtleneck, and Kiyoko uses her foundation to cover up the ones that are still visible. They get off the bus to eat lunch a few hours later, at the same restaurant as Catfight and Morisuke’s band, and Kenma gives him a  _ look _ \- one that Tetsurou returns.  _ What the fuck, you little minx, they saw my love bites,  _ he tries to say through his gaze. 

Kenma gives a tiny shrug and glances down.  _ They saw mine too,  _ his gaze says. He glances over at Lev and makes a face. God - Tetsurou can only imagine what Lev had to say about Kenma’s hickeys. Gross. 

He ends up at a booth with Morisuke, Lev, and Kenma. It’s more of a ‘he sits down with Morisuke and Kenma and then Lev sits down with them and refuses to leave despite Morisuke telling him to fuck off at least ten times’ type of situation. 

“They have pie here,” Tetsurou says, leaning over Kenma to point at the pie on his menu.

“Hm,” Kenma says. “What if it’s terrible, though?”

“You can’t know that unless you try it.”

“But if it’s gross, then I’ve wasted my money.”

“Well, fine, don’t get fuckin’ pie then.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

“Fine.” 

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Morisuke shakes his head. “God, could you two be any more like an old married couple?” 

_ There it is again.  _ Marriage, the implication of something romantic between the two of them. Tetsurou tries to calm down his racing heartbeat, but he can’t help but subtly shift away from Kenma the slightest bit. “What are you gonna get then, Morisucky?” 

“Really? It’s been two years and you haven’t come up with a more creative nickname? I expected better of you - oh wait, I actually didn’t.” 

Kenma gives a quiet chuckle beside him, and Tetsurou elbows him. “Don’t you dare laugh at my expense.”

“Morisuke!” Lev interrupts, his voice loud. “How is your new band? Are they better than Neko? Did you miss Tetsurou? Did you miss me?”

“One question at a time,” Morisuke gripes, but then says, “Fine, I can’t compare them, I missed having someone as obnoxious as Tetsurou to keep me amused, and no, I sure as hell did not miss you.”

“Aw!” Lev cries. “But I missed you!” 

Kenma rubs at his temples, but says, “He did. He asked me if I knew what you were doing every single day of the last year.”

“Thank you for not teaching him to use Google properly,” Morisuke says solemnly.

“You mean if I google  _ where is Morisuke  _ it’ll show up?” 

“It better fuckin’ not. But I’m not totally irrelevant, you know! Sometimes the bands I’m a part of will show up and tell you where I’m touring.” 

“Oh, then I’ll just do that next time!” 

“God. Why the hell did I even say anything.”

Tetsurou laughs. “Wow, Morisuke, with how kind you’re being, one might actually think you like the kid.” 

“Lev Haiba is the bane of my entire existence.”

“Hey!” Lev says, looking offended, but then his expression evens out. “Hey, Kenma, what does bane of my existence means? Is it a bad thing or a good thing?” 

There’s a glint in Kenma’s eyes that Tetsurou’s come to recognize as evilness manifesting inside of him as he says, “Oh, it’s definitely a good thing, Lev.”

“The hell it is,” Morisuke says, giving Kenma a stinky glare that’s usually only reserved for Tetsurou. “Stay away from Tetsu, Kenma. He’s clearly rubbing off on you.”

_ Rubbing off on him in more ways than one,  _ Tetsurou wants to say. Instead, he just grins.

.

“Tetsurou, do you have any fives?” Sou asks, staring at Tetsurou with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Go fish,” Tetsurou says. “Uh, Shouhei, you got any tens?” 

Shouhei glances down at his cards, sighs, and withdraws a ten, passing it to Tetsurou.Tetsurou has to wonder how the fuck he’d ended up on the Catfight bus playing Go Fish. He’d been looking for Kenma, of course. But Kenma had been conspicuously missing. So instead, he’d gotten pulled in by Lev to join their game, and hasn’t been able to find a way to escape yet.

“Who’s got a King?” Taketora crows, spreading out his cards.

Shouhei shakes his head. “Tora, you’re supposed to ask a specific person.”

“Is this what you guys do every day?” Tetsurou can’t resist asking. 

“Well,” Shouhei says carefully, “certain people in the band can’t exactly handle higher level games. We tried playing Mafia once and Lev immediately shouted that he was the Mafia.”

“I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to!” Lev protests. 

“I mean, we did say you weren’t supposed to, dude,” Taketora says, slugging Lev in the shoulder. 

“Also,” Shouhei says, “we wanted to get to know you, so we figured that this was the best way.”

“Cause Kenma clearly likes you a lot!” Sou adds, a grin on his face.

“Oh,” Tetsurou says. “So this is what, you guys scoping me out to see if I’m worthy of Kenma’s friendship?”

“You’re like, his  _ best  _ friend,” Sou explains. “So yeah, we wanna make sure that you’re a good person or whatever!” 

“I haven’t cheated at Go Fish,” Tetsurou says. 

“Yet,” Sou replies, his eyes narrowing. “But I think you might have some fives you didn’t tell me about.”

“I swear to god, you can look at my cards.”

“I don’t know how the hell you all get so competitive about Go Fish,” comes a soft voice from behind them. They all whirl around to see Kenma standing in the doorway to the bus, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“When the hell did you get here?” Taketora gasps, his head swerving around to look at the door, which he’d apparently gotten through and closed already, all without making a sound. “Holy shit, Kenma, you’d make a hell of an assassin.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Kenma agrees. “Anyways, how did you all rope Kuro into playing Go Fish with you?”

“What makes you think he had to be roped?” Sou asks. “Go Fish is a really fun game!”

“Until Lev gets mad and throws his entire deck on the ground,” Kenma says. “And his deck is always the biggest.”

“That is  _ not  _ true,” Lev protests, sticking out his lower lip. “I won just yesterday!” 

Shouhei exchanges a look with Kenma. Tetsurou doesn’t have a good read on Shouhei the way Kenma seems to, but even Tetsurou can tell that it means that they’d let Lev win. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

It’s interesting to see the way that Kenma interacts with his own band. Kenma’s quieter around Tetsurou’s band, or around other band members that he doesn’t know, but around his band, Kenma is much like he is with Tetsurou - vocal, sassy, sarcastic, hilarious. It’s nice to see that Kenma has somewhere that he’s so comfortable, Tetsurou can’t help but think.

“You have to play now,” Sou says. “Since Tetsurou’s playing.” 

“Why does Kuro playing mean that I automatically have to play?”

“Because,” Sou says, and then thinks for a second. “I don’t know. It just does.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, but lets Shouhei deal him into the game anyways. Tetsurou leans back and thinks that maybe he can deal with Go Fish every once in a while. In a weird way, t’s kind of nice to get some time to hang out with Catfight.

Especially when Kenma is there. 

.

“This was a good idea,” Kenma says. 

Tetsurou glances over at him. They’re both perched on the edge of a bridge over a creek, where they’d ended up after an hour of aimless wandering away from the city. It’s nearing sunset, and today is one of their days off. The warm glow of the sun highlights Kenma’s hair, how it’s only blonde near the tips now, and makes his eyes gleam an even brighter shade of gold. There’s a tiny smile of contentment on his face. Tetsurou’s breath catches in his throat. He thinks,  _ beautiful.  _ Truly beautiful.

“I’m full of good ideas,” is what Tetsurou says instead. It’d sound a little questionable if he started waxing poetic about the guy he’s been hooking up with, and he doesn’t want to scare Kenma away.

“Whatever you say,” Kenma says quietly. “It’s peaceful here, though. Unlike on my bus.”

Tetsurou kicks his feet back and forth, staring down at the creek. “What’s going on on the Catfight bus today?”

“Tora put toothpaste in Lev’s slippers,” Kenma replies with a groan. “Don’t ask me why, because I really don’t know, but Lev’s feet smell better than they ever have. Still, he’s upset about it, so he’s trying to find a way to get revenge on Tora now.”   
  


“I could give him some ideas,” Tetsurou says. “Y’know, back in the Neko days, I saran wrapped Morisuke’s entire bunk. Separately wrapped his pillow, blanket, mattress, teddy bear, all of it.”

“His teddy bear,” Kenma snorts.

“Of course someone as tiny as Mori would have a teddy bear,” Tetsurou says, amused. “And then when Bo and I would get into the prank wars, the pranks were amazing. Covered his bus in pictures of owls - Keiji was  _ pissed  _ about that one. Even bought robotic snakes to put in Bo’s shower one time. He ran out of the bathroom butt ass naked in front of the rest of his band.”

“So what I’m hearing is that I shouldn’t allow you to talk to Lev, Sou, or Tora pretty much ever.”

“ _ Allow  _ me? How exactly do you plan on stopping me?”

“I have my ways,” Kenma says mysteriously. Tetsurou looks over at him again, at the tiny smile on his lips, and he’s suddenly struck with the desire to kiss him. It’d be a bad idea, he knows. They’re not drunk, and they’re not about to fuck, so it feels like he’d be crossing a line he’d never crossed before. So he doesn’t.

He leans back, staring out at the expanse of the creek in front of him. “Sometimes I think it’d be nice,” he says after a second, “to live a peaceful life like this. No fans, no record labels, no pressure. Just living in an old cottage by the river and watching the days flow by, like leaves caught by a slow-moving stream.”

“If only your fans could hear you now,” Kenma says. “Especially the ones that seem to think you’re some badass superstar.”

“Living in a cottage is badass,” Tetsurou protests.

“Sure it is,” Kenma says. He takes a second to pause, then amends, “It would be nice to get away from my band, though. And from everyone talking about me all the time.”

“They usually say good things, at least.”

“Still. I’m not big on attention.” 

“We can get a cottage one day, maybe,” Tetsurou says with a hum. “Two bedrooms, a nice creek outdoors.”

“It has to have electricity, though.”

“Where are you gonna get electricity from way out in the middle of nowhere?!”

“Guess it’s a no for me then.”

“What, you’re gonna leave me all alone and terribly lonely in the cottage?”

“You’ll have to befriend the wildlife.” 

“I’m a fucking Disney princess now?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Tetsurou can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his lips. “No fuckin’ way you’re telling me that you’re a Disney princess movie fan right now. God, Kenma Kozume, you find a new way to surprise me every day.”

Kenma shoots him a tiny glare. “Beauty and the Beast was a good movie, at least.”

“That it was,” Tetsurou says, “but I didn’t think you’d be into all that power of love and happily ever after bullshit.” 

Kenma pauses for a moment. “I don’t think I believe in happily ever afters,” he says slowly. “I don’t believe that once you fall in love, things are suddenly easy. Love takes work. But love… I’ve come to believe that love might actually be very powerful.”

“Hah? Who are you and what have you done with my Kenma?”

Kenma huffs, nudging him away. “I’m just being honest,” Kenma says. “I’m not a complete cynic.”

“I know.” He leans into Kenma subconsciously, and Kenma leans back, placing his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder. They fall silent as they both watch the sun set in the distance. 

Tetsurou thinks that if he could choose a single moment to bottle up and live in forever, he’d probably choose this one. Because, with Kenma’s body warm against his, for once - Tetsurou feels completely at peace. 

.

“So then Tetsurou tripped and spilled his drink all over the girl’s head,” Morisuke says to the crowd around him at the bar with an evil smile on his face.

“Oh my god,” Koushi says, his expression appreciative. 

“Her mascara started running,” Keiji adds. “I felt bad, so I went to get her a towel.”

“Why didn’t Tetsurou do that?” Daichi asks. “He was the one who spilled it, wasn’t he?”

Morisuke smirks. “He was too busy having a crisis in the middle of the dance floor. And Koutarou tried to support him, but then he slipped on the drink on the floor, fell flat on his ass, and started having his own crisis.”

“And then I had to help comfort Bo too,” Keiji says, “because I’m apparently his emotional support person.” 

Tetsurou groans, burying his head in his arms on the side of the bar. “Why did this become a time for everyone to tell embarrassing stories about me and Bo?” 

“Ah, c’mon, man up,” Morisuke says, slapping him on the shoulder. “Everybody gets their time for other people to tell embarrassing stories about them, y’know.”

“When’s yours then?”

“I’m sure I can pencil you in,” Morisuke replies, then takes a second before he adds, “thirty years from now.”

“You never change,” Tetsurou gripes. “Once an asshole, always an asshole.”

“Assholes have more fun,” Koushi says with a wink. “In more ways than one.”

“Pervert,” Daichi mutters, and Koushi grins, resting his head on Daichi’s shoulder and batting his eyelashes up at him. 

Keiji frowns. “Where’s Kenma?” he asks, suddenly, and immediately everyone’s eyes flick over to Tetsurou.

“Whaaat, am I Kenma’s keeper?”

“Essentially,” Kiyoko replies with a shrug, while Daichi nods and Koushi says, “More or less.” Tetsurou frowns at him. Truly, his band members are far too supportive of him.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but I don’t have a clue. I said hi to him briefly after the show, but I haven’t seen him since then.”

Keiji shakes his head. “What if he’s been kidnapped and you hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t here?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Tetsurou says. “I mean, it’s never happened before, right?” His chest is suddenly filled with something like dread. What if something has actually happened to Kenma and now he’s denying it like the world’s biggest asshole? For most of the tour, Kenma has been by his side, whether it be for a hookup or just to hang out. So isn’t it kind of suspicious that he’s not here now? He feels like his throat is closing up, like the world’s ending, when - 

“You’ll never guess who just called me,” comes a quiet voice from beside him.

Well, thank Jesus. Keiji glances over at him. “Glad to see you’re okay, Kenma. We were worried when you didn’t show up with Tetsurou.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “I don’t always have to be with Kuro. I’m my own person, after all.”

“You are,” Keiji acknowledges. The two lock eyes, and it feels like there’s something in the air between them that Tetsurou can’t quite understand, almost like a palpable tension. Tetsurou can’t help feeling a little hurt. Kenma certainly hadn’t told him about anything that had gone down between him and Keiji, and Tetsurou tells him almost everything. Well, besides when Tetsurou had gone to the club and tried to hook up with Annie, but Kenma didn’t need to know about that.

_ Shit _ . Had Kenma hooked up with Keiji? Was that what this was about?!

First fucking Shouyou, and now Keiji too? He has no right to be upset, he knows. He and Kenma aren’t exclusive. But for him, Kenma is, well, special. The first and only guy he’s ever had sex with. The first and only guy he’ll probably ever want to have sex with, to be honest. And to think that he’s not the same for Kenma - that Kenma can do it with other guys, no problem, that he probably is doing it with other guys, even now - it makes him feel a combination of enraged and sick to his stomach. And with Keiji, of all people. Keiji who’s beautiful and quieter and more reasonable and everything that Tetsurou’s not. He thinks he might actually throw up, but manages to hold himself back.

He shouldn’t care. He isn’t in a relationship with Kenma. Doesn’t want to be, isn’t inclined towards guys romantically. But if Kenma had been an exception sexually, who’s to say that he couldn’t also be his exception romantically?

_ Nope.  _ That thought also gets suppressed at the speed of light. Nope, nope, nope.

“Who called you?” Tetsurou says, nudging Kenma gently with his shoulder. 

“Tooru,” Kenma says. “He’s been having some… problems with his band.”

“Shocking,” Daichi mutters under his breath.

“And for some reason, he thinks I would have advice.”

“He should’ve called Tetsurou,” Morisuke says cheekily. “Tetsurou’s always in some kind of shit with his band members.”

“That’s untrue,” Tetsurou says. “My current band members love me. Right?”

“Sure,” Kiyoko says, while Daichi just raises his eyebrows and Koushi grins.

Later, once the group dissolves, Koushi dragging Daichi to the dance floor again, Kiyoko and Morisuke chatting by the bar, Tetsurou nudges Kenma again. “What kind of problems is Tooru having?”

Kenma breathes in slowly, breathes out. “Promise you won’t tell anyone else.”

“What, now you’re that concerned about Tooru, who calls you Pudding Head and is probably the most obnoxious person on the planet, Oikawa’s privacy?”

“I’m trying to be a good person, Kuro,” Kenma huffs. 

“Fine, fine, you know I won’t. Don’t have anyone to tell, anyways. Out with it.”

“He said he and Hajime have been arguing a lot,” Kenma says, finally. “Trying to record their second album. Hajime doesn’t agree with the artistic style Tooru’s pushing for, and he wants to be able to have a bigger say in the band’s workings. He was asking if I knew anything about it because I have ‘difficult to deal with’ band members.” 

“Ah.” Tetsurou exhales. “They’ve been friends for a while, though, haven’t they?”

“Since they were kids,” Kenma confirms with a nod.

“Huh,” Tetsurou says thoughtfully. “That sucks.”

“Eloquent.”   
  


Tetsurou can’t help thinking, though, about his own band. He’s heard of many a band breaking up for “creative differences” - Neko had essentially broken up because of it, though it hadn’t been half as dramatic as the breakups of other bands. What if Black Claw ends that way, going up in flames? What if Daichi and Koushi and Kiyoko secretly start to resent him? He can hardly imagine it happening to Tooru and Hajime, but it seems that there’s been tension building that even he hadn’t picked up on. He frowns. “D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“No way of knowing.” Kenma shrugs. “Being in bands with people you care about can be volatile like that sometimes.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I was a teenager once, you know. I tried starting a band with some people I knew. It… didn’t end well.” 

“Oh my god. Tell me you still have recordings of those songs.”

“Of course I don’t. I destroyed all evidence of that band ever existing.” 

“You’ve deprived me, I hope you know. I’m devastated.”

“Shut up.” 

“Anyways, I think they will,” Tetsurou hums, then, realizing it sounds weird out of context, adds “Be okay, I mean. Tooru’s probably just being dramatic.” He ignores the pit of dread bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. 

Kenma gives a slight nod.

Tetsurou grins again. “Hey, I’m just glad you weren’t here earlier when Mori was telling all my embarrassing stories from my early days in Neko. Gotta thank Tooru for that, at least.”

Kenma raises an eyebrow. “Embarrassing stories? Maybe I should go find Morisuke.”

“Hey, no, that’s not necessary,” Tetsurou tries to say, but Kenma’s already making his way over to where Morisuke and Kiyoko are talking. Cursing under his breath at his own stupidity, Tetsurou weaves through the crowd behind him, but by the time he makes it there it’s too late.

“Then he fell straight onto her lap,” Morisuke finishes with a smirk on his face. “Knocked over her fancy wine bottle and everything. He offered to replace it, but I think she could tell by the way he was dressed that Tetsu wasn’t exactly swimming in the cash.”

Tetsurou frantically glances over at Kenma, whose eyes are bright. “I’m guessing you didn’t get the gig.”

“Course not,” Morisuke says. “I was pissed at him for a while, but. You come to realize that it’s just who the fuck he is, you know?”

“To be fair,” Kiyoko says, smiling over at him, “he’s gotten a little bit better.”

“A little bit better?!” Tetsurou complains. “I’ve gotten significantly better, thank you. I never have moments like those these days.”

“What about that one day when we went to that pizza place and you -”

“ _ Kenma _ ,” Tetsurou interrupts, elbowing Kenma firmly to cut him off. “Don’t you think that’s enough embarrassing stories about me for one night?”

“No,” Morisuke, Kenma, and Kiyoko all say in unison.

Still, the culmination of all of Tetsurou’s most dreaded stories isn’t enough to keep Kenma away from him. Once the others all dissipate, going back to their hotel rooms and or to who knows where, Kenma’s smaller hand takes a hold of his, firmly pulling him back to the hotel. “I got a room tonight,” he says, voice slightly sultry.

Tetsurou swallows. “Great,” he says, suddenly completely overwhelmed and, like a Pavlovian dog, already a little turned on. 

It’s Kenma who drags him in tonight, Kenma who bites at his lip, Kenma who presses him against the wall, and Tetsurou thinks he might just die on the spot, because this has to be what heaven is. Kenma’s hands tug at his hair and Tetsurou gives a pathetic little moan. 

Kenma just stares at him, his lips curving up into a little smile. He doesn’t say anything, though, just pulls Tetsurou back in, slamming their lips back together. 

Tetsurou is more than happy to drown in it. 

The next morning, he wakes up to find Kenma curled up on his chest, his hair out of its usual ponytail, his face peaceful in sleep. Tetsurou doesn’t know what the hell the feeling in his chest is. 

He falls back asleep.

.

Near the end of the tour, he finds Morisuke in a cafe, his laptop in front of him, pounding away at the keys. Tetsurou sneaks up behind him.  _ glad to be on tour again,  _ he’s typing,  _ if only a certain person wasnt here…. i mean shit i didnt say anything. but hes driving me crazy. and not in a good way. _

Probably about time to make his presence known. Tetsurou clears his throat loudly, nearly startling Morisuke out of his seat. Morisuke whirls around, his face a wonderful shade of red, as Tetsurou drawls, “Writing a diary, are we?”

“ _ Fuck _ you,” Morisuke says emphatically, his face still the shade of a tomato. “It’s not a fucking diary, asshole.”

“What the hell is it then? Cause it sure looks like a diary.”

“Just cause you’re 80 years old. It’s a Livejournal blog. I just make blog posts about myself and my life. That’s fucking it.” 

“That sounds an awful lot like a diary with a more technologically advanced name. And - wait, hang on. Isn’t Livejournal the website with all the fanfiction? You know, with the - with the  _ sex stories _ ?”

Morisuke snickers. “The way you speak sometimes, Tetsurou, you sound like a scandalized virgin. Then I have to think about the fact that I know for a fact that you’re not and that I’ve seen your bare ass before - “

“Let’s never speak of that again. Shit.”

“I’d love to be able to never talk about it again. Anyways, yeah, it’s the same site, but it’s not like you’re forced to look at the stories about you fucking Kenma the second you sign up for the website, y’know.”

“Morisuke, oh my god - Wait, fuck, you know about those?” 

“Of course I do. Sometimes old fans of Neko comment on my posts wondering what I think of, uh, what is it - Tetsuken?”

“...let’s end this conversation here. Except… what do you tell them?”

“I tell them I’m not here to talk about fuckin’ Tetsurou Kuroo and his weird ass love life, obviously.”

Tetsurou snorts. It’s such a Morisuke response, but it’s not a complete shutdown, not a firm “No, Tetsurou is heterosexual and has no romantic interest in men” either, and Tetsurou can’t help wondering if the fans will realize that as well, realize that even one of Tetsurou’s closest friends won’t completely shut down the rumors and stories about him and Kenma. His heart rate spikes a little bit, but he does his best to shake it off. “Think I should sign up for one of these - uh, LiveJournal things?” 

“Sure. You gonna contribute to the Tetsuken archives? Didn’t peg you as the type to write shameless fucking, but you never really know people, I guess.”

Tetsurou just grins in response. “Actually, I was thinking of starting up a community for people to write stories about, uh - one Morisuke Yaku with one Lev Haiba....”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I mean, I’ve seen a lot of Morilev stories out there already,” Tetsurou says, even though he’s never looked into it, never even thought about looking into it. “They say that the way you act towards him and all the times you talk about him prove that the two of you are disgustingly in love…”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Morisuke says. “Don’t you dare even talk to  _ those people _ . I’m gonna call the copyright office, see if I can get these people prosecuted for using my likeness for these awful, disgusting fantasies -”

“Morisuke.”

“What?”

“I’m fucking with you. I’ve never seen a Morilev story.”

“You are the worst person,” Morisuke says, “and I don’t miss you at all.”

Tetsurou laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I miss you too, asshole. But ‘m glad you found another way to keep making music.”

Later that night, Tetsurou sets up a LiveJournal account. He doesn’t get how it works, even after scrolling through some of Morisuke’s posts. Morisuke posts about his daily life, about the random, mundane things that happen to him. Tetsurou isn’t convinced that anyone would want to read those kind of things about him. 

Still, he creates a new post.

**beginning**

_ Morisuke told me that LiveJournal is the new thing so Im here I guess. On tour with Catfight and Morisuke which is nice because I get to be around some of my favorite people. The show tonight was fuckin fantastic and K and I went to McDonalds after. Think the cashier might have recognized me but she didnt say shit hahaha _

Morisuke then links to his account in his new post, telling Morisuke’s LiveJournal friends to also friend Tetsurou, he supposes, because he gets an influx of notifications about people adding him. And then, the comments start to roll in. 

_ K??? Is K Kenma?? _

_ Hahaha its nice to see you and Mori still talk even if you arent in the same band _

_ Ahhh Tetsuken!  _

_ Hey Tetsurou Im seeing you at the Black Claw show tomorrow night! Cant wait! Glad to see u finally got LJ _

He doesn’t reply to any of them, because he’s not sure he knows the etiquette around replying to these kinds of comments. Still, he reads them all, confusion filling him. Yes, K had been referring to Kenma, of course - but is it that abnormal that they’d gotten food together? He gets food with everyone at some point! It shouldn’t be anything special!

He logs out of his account, his head muddled and confused. 

.

The last night before the tour ends, he wakes up with Kenma’s head on his shoulder, and finds they’re both positioned on the Black Claw bus. Morisuke is holding up his new camera phone, grinning as he snaps a photo of the two of them. “My LiveJournal fans’ll love this one,” Morisuke says triumphantly.

“You’re being loud,” Tetsurou grumbles, glancing down at Kenma, whose eyes are still closed on his shoulder. “You’re gonna wake him up.”

“He should probably go back to his own bus, to be fair,” Koushi points out. “Lev, Sou, Tora, and Shouhei left forever ago, although Shouhei told us to call him if he needed him and he’d get Tora to ‘haul Kenma’s ass’ back to their bus.” 

“It’s fine,” Tetsurou says, glancing over at Kenma, his lips curving up into a smile. Kenma really looks cute when he’s sleeping, he can’t help but think, and then wonders if that’s a weird thing to think. Nah, probably not. Morisuke looks kind of cute when he sleeps too. Like a little kid. He can imagine getting his ass beat for  _ that  _ particular thought.

“You really are a softie,” Kiyoko says. 

“Ha, I never pretended not to be. All the shit people say about me being a hardass - total fucking lie.”

“No one ever said you were a hardass,” Daichi says suspiciously. “People have eyes.” 

“Excuse me? I wear leather jackets!” 

“Yeah, but you don’t have tattoos,” Daichi says, pointing at the tattoo decorating his forearm. “Or piercings.” He motions to Kenma, and his various piercings decorating his ear - piercings that Tetsurou has mouthed at and pulled on, earning delicious noises from Kenma’s lips, but no, definitely not the time to let his thoughts go down that route. 

“Maybe I should get a tattoo,” Tetsurou muses, glancing down at his arm - completely bare. Koutarou has plenty of tattoos on his arms, as do Daichi, Taketora, and Sou. Kiyoko, even, has an ankle tattoo, and Keiji a simple wrist tattoo. He suddenly feels a little bit weird. “Actually, that could be a good idea.”

“You shouldn’t just decide to get a tattoo randomly,” Daichi warns.

“Didn’t you decide to get one like five minutes before you got it? And wasn’t it a tattoo of a bowl of ramen?” Koushi grins teasingly.

“Ramen is delicious and cheap, you know,” Daichi mutters, sounding significantly more grumpy. “Besides, at that point, you could hardly see my arms anyways. Not like it mattered if I got one more random tattoo. But if that’s gonna be Tetsurou’s first and maybe only tattoo…”

“Only?! Who says that’ll be my only tattoo?”   
  


“Your low pain tolerance,” Kenma mutters sleepily, his breath warm against Tetsurou’s arm. Tetsurou nearly shudders. 

“When the hell did you wake up?” he says, gently nudging Kenma.

“You’re all loud.”

“I told you guys -” 

“Mainly you, Kuro.”

Tetsurou’s jaw drops. “And here I let you use my arm as a pillow! Then you wake up and are rude to me!”

“Your arm is too hard, anyways.”

Tetsurou rolls his eyes, but picks up his arm, letting Kenma drop his head onto Tetsurou’s chest. Kenma makes a tiny noise of approval, snuggling closer into Tetsurou’s chest, closing his eyes again. Tetsurou looks up at the rest who are watching them, raising an eyebrow at the looks on their faces. “Is something wrong?”

“You two are still just like an old married couple,” Morisuke says, shaking his head. “Some things never change, I guess.”

“So they’ve always been like this?” Daichi says. 

“Ever since Tetsurou got Catfight signed, at least.”

“Wasn’t that Koutarou?” Koushi asks.

“Nah, he’ll tell you it was, but Tetsurou sent him the EP and demanded he listen to it. And we all know Koutarou only listens to like, Keiji and Tetsurou, and almost no one else, much to Akinori’s perpetual dismay.” 

“Poor Akinori,” Daichi says sympathetically.

“Though I do feel like I am finally understanding the dynamics at play here,” Kiyoko says, rather mysteriously. 

Tetsurou rubs at his own forehead with the arm that’s not draped around Kenma. “There’s no dynamics at play here,” he says tiredly. “Just two dudes being friends. Is that a sin these days?”

“Yes,” all four chorus at once. 

Tetsurou groans, patting Kenma’s hair. “You’re all insufferable assholes.”

He doesn’t want to let go, he thinks, as he tightens his arm around Kenma. He doesn’t want this magical tour to end.

.

It does end, though, just as all things do. 2007 ends as well; and with 2008 dawns a new era, a new Tetsurou. At least, that’s what Tetsurou tells himself, as he does every year. 

He starts off the end of 2007 by getting his own apartment. He feels that he has a decent amount of money now, enough to justify getting a place of his own. It’s a nice enough place, a separate bedroom, living room, bathroom, and a decent sized kitchen. A comforting home, even though he won’t be living in it for over half of the year while he’s on tour. However, the problem is that living alone comes with its own problems: namely, that living alone after being on tour and being constantly surrounded by people feels lonely as hell.

That’s how he ends up in a bar on New Year’s Day, feeling more than a little pathetic as he wishes he weren’t alone, that someone else was with him. It’s been way too long since he’s had a New Year’s Kiss. He considers seeking out one of the bar’s patrons, but that seems pathetic, even for him. Instead, he taps on the bar. “Can you get me…” He eyes the drinks, then sighs. “Never mind.”

It’s a hell of a night when he doesn’t even think drinking will help him out.

He spends his night wallowing until he gets a call from Kenma. Kenma doesn’t say much, just asks short questions, gives brief answers, and hums, but still makes his night better just by talking to Tetsurou, and a million times better when Kenma says, “It would be nice if you were here.”

“Ah, what’s that?” Tetsurou says with a laugh. “You want me to be your New Year’s kiss?”

“So what if I do,” Kenma huffs. “Who else am I supposed to kiss?”

_ Keiji  _ pops into Tetsurou’s head automatically, immediately followed by  _ Shouyou _ . Instead, he says, “Who’s with you, then?”

“My family,” Kenma says. “Mom, dad, grandma.”

“Aw, you should kiss your grandma for the New Year’s. That’d be cute.”

“ _ Kuro _ .”

“What? It would! I’d kiss my grandma if she was here.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m… at a bar,” Tetsurou says lamely.

“Kuro,” Kenma says again, but his tone is different this time: worried, Tetsurou thinks, and then immediately feels bad.

“I’m not even drinking,” he says, as though he has to explain. “I’m just… I didn’t want to be home alone. That apartment felt way too empty. And I didn’t know where else to go.”

The countdown starts to sound in the background of both Kenma and Tetsurou’s surroundings. Kenma sighs. “I should probably hang up. But if you get lonely, just call me. I’m… here. You know that.”

“I know,” Tetsurou says, “I know. I’ll call you. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Tomorrow,” Kenma says. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Tetsurou feels his lips tilting up. “Goodbye,” he says.

Later that night, he writes a new post on his LiveJournal blog. It’s beginning to feel like a diary: a diary he’s aware that other people can read, so he’s never specific, never naming actual names. There’s something about it, though, that makes it feel fun, exciting.

**New Year’s**

_ You said you wished I could be your midnight kiss and to be honest Im starting to wish I could be yours too. Everything feels lonelier without you here. The apartment is too big and the bed is cold without you pressed up against me. Youre a good cuddle buddy you know that right? _

_ It really sounds like Im pining after a lost love or something. Hahaha. I mean this in the most platonic of ways of course _

He reads the first comment that comes in:  _ Omg Tetsurou is in love! Whos the lucky lady? (Or guy I guess) _

Immediately, he closes the tab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!!  
> I'd like to thank you once again for your lovely comments and words of encouragement!! They keep me excited to post each chapter and see what you all will think.  
> In case you couldn't tell, though - Kuroo's approaching a big wake up call that's coming very, very soon!  
> Also, I've added the first background relationship tag, so keep your eyes out for that!  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	8. I'm Yours Tonight

I’ll help you find your way every moment you’re awake.  
You know I’ll stay, even in your dreams  
I’ll pull the stars down from the heavens to fill your empty skies  
I’m yours tonight.

\- _I'm Yours Tonight,_ The Academy Is...

To kick off the new year, he ends up on tour with a bunch of bands he doesn’t know that well. They’re nice enough guys, fun and friendly, and they make good music, but none of them even attempt to prank him like Koutarou and the rest of Full Soul would, and obviously none of them are Kenma. He decides that it’s time for a change.

“I’m going to get a tattoo,” he says one afternoon when they have a bit of free time before a show.

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow at him. “Congratulations,” she replies.

He takes a breath, then says, “I want you to come with me.”

Kiyoko’s face stays the same, but there’s a slight bit of confusion in her eyes. “Me?”

“You have a tattoo,” Tetsurou explains. “And Koushi doesn’t have tattoos, and Daichi would be judgmental if I even dared feel a bit of pain, considering he’s basically a pincushion at this point.”

“You should tell him that,” Kiyoko says with a small laugh. 

“I’m not trying to put my life at risk. Have you seen his arms? He could snap my neck in a fuckin’ millisecond.” 

Kiyoko shakes her head, still smiling. “Sure, fine, I suppose I can go with you then.”

It fucking hurts. Tetsurou doesn’t know how the hell Daichi does it all the time, and actually begins to seriously consider if Daichi’s numerous tattoos have killed off all the nerve endings in his arms. He winces a lot, and Kiyoko pretends that she’s not taking photos while she clearly is, a tiny hint of a smirk on her face. But by the time it’s over, Tetsurou ends up with a black cat on his arm - eyes glinting a dangerous, familiar gold. He smiles slightly to himself, even though it still stings like hell. 

When he gets back, he gets Kiyoko to snap a picture to send to Kenma, suddenly glad that his new phone has photo messaging. It’s not the highest quality photo ever, but it’s good enough to make out the silhouette of his tattoo, at least.

Kenma’s response, though, is  _ tell me thats not your ass. _

_ Kenma y would I send u a pic of my ass _ , he replies frantically.

_ well its not like i havent seen your ass before, _ Kenma answers. 

_ Its my arm oh my god. Like the upper part of my arm.  _

_ its not bad _ , Kenma says, which Tetsurou thinks is high praise coming from him - if Kenma didn’t like it, he’d tell Tetsurou, regardless of how permanent the tattoo is. Kenma has no qualms about that kind of thing when it comes to Tetsurou. It’s one of the things Tetsruou likes most about him.  _ whats the meaning behind it? _

_ Its 2 represent Neko, lyk the unofficial band logo we ended up w at the end,  _ he says.

_ can you just type like a normal person. like is only 1 more character than ‘lyk’. _

_ Im afra!d thatz impozzible mai frand _ , Tetsurou replies, grinning mischievously to himself. 

_ youre wasting my minutes im not replying anymore,  _ Kenma says.  _ enjoy your tour kuro. _

Once Daichi and Koushi return from their dinner or whatever they’d been doing while Kiyoko and Tetsurou were gone, Daichi takes one look at it and launches into a critique of the linework. He then makes fun of him for the photos that Kiyoko had sent him, telling him that he’s a wimp. Tetsurou launches into a monologue of self-defense, telling him that he has ‘sensitive skin’, which makes Koushi fall into a laughing fit. They curl up on the couch to watch a movie on Koushi’s portable DVD player, and Tetsurou feels just a little bit warmer.

.

Later that tour, though, he gets a call from Morisuke of all people.

“Did you get the invitation?” Morisuke asks nervously.

“What fuckin’ invitation?” Tetsurou says, half-asleep despite the fact that it’s nearly noon already. “What, did you get invited to a cult? You seem super freaked about it.”

“No, shut up,” Morisuke says. “The invitation to Nobuyuki’s wedding.”

Silence. Tetsurou nearly drops his phone.  _ What the fuck,  _ his mind starts screaming.  _ Wedding? Wedding?!?  _

On a logical level, it makes sense. He, Morisuke, and Nobuyuki are 26 now, which for some people is a normal age to get married. Also, Nobuyuki has been dating his girlfriend for years now. Of course they’d want to settle down eventually.

But on the other hand: people Tetsurou’s age are getting  _ married _ ? On purpose? People he knows, people he’s close to like Nobuyuki? People have their shit together? What the fuck has he been doing, then? He hasn’t had a girlfriend since Bethany, and even that hadn’t been all that serious, comparatively. Is his time running out? Should he sign up for a dating site? But then when the hell would he have time to go on dates? In between tours? And who the hell wants to date someone that’s on the road, much less someone that’s been consistently hooking up with another band guy? He could just not tell her about the hookups, but he’s not a cheater on any level, so he’d have to end things with Kenma, and he very much does not want to do that. Oh, holy shit. 

“Right?” Morisuke says, interrupting Tetsurou’s internal breakdown. He snaps back to reality, remembering that he’s still on the line with Morisuke. 

“Right what?” Tetsurou says dumbly.

“You’re having a breakdown, I assume. Well, fuckin’ same. I haven’t even dated anyone in like, years, and here I hear our Nobu’s got his shit all in line and is about to fuckin’ settle down. I’m like, should I be trying for that?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “Me too. Fucking me too.”

“You’re gonna go to the wedding though, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Tetsurou says. “It’s our Nobuyuki. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. But holy  _ shit,  _ Mori.”

“Tell me about it,” Morisuke says glumly. “You bringing a date?”

“What do I need a date for when I’ve got you?”

“First of all, that’s fucking disgusting. Second of all, I would’ve thought you’d be bringing - actually, never mind.”

“No. Please, Mori, tell me, who exactly should I be bringing to this event?”

“Ha, as if I’d let you off that easily,” Morisuke says. “Figure it out yourself, dumbass.”

He doesn’t figure it out, though, even after giving it hours of thought. He’s not dating anyone, and bringing your platonic hookup best friend to a wedding seems a bit out of place, so he doesn’t bother asking Kenma. Instead, he goes alone and meets up with Morisuke there. (Morisuke also doesn’t have a date, so he feels moderately less bad.) It ends up being a fairly small wedding; neither Nobuyuki nor his bride have ever been big on making a big scene, but it’s gorgeous nonetheless. 

However, although he’s incredibly happy for Nobuyuki and his newfound happiness, he can’t help but ponder his own love life - or lack thereof. The way things are going, he can’t see himself being able to walk down the altar towards anyone he loves, maybe ever. He knows he still has time - but shouldn’t he at least have options? Shouldn’t he at least be getting serious sometime soon? 

Morisuke nudges him during the couple’s first dance at the reception afterwards. “They’re cute,” he says. “Kinda disgusting.”

“God, sometimes I think you might actually have the brain of a five year old,” Tetsurou retorts. “But they are cute. Nobu really lucked out.” His new wife is gorgeous, tall with dark, glowing skin and a brilliant smile, but most of all, genuinely kind. They’re well-matched, Tetsurou thinks. Probably the type to start their own charity or some shit. Morisuke’s right: it’s actually pretty gross.

“Starting to think I’ll never get married,” Morisuke says glumly.

“Well, don’t expect me to volunteer.”

“Good. I’d rather die.”

“Hey, you could follow the fans’ advice and marry Lev.”

“Well, fuck, I don’t know which one is worse. But hey,” Morisuke’s smile gleams, “if we’re going by the fans’ advice, you and Kenma - “

“Don’t even say it.”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s out of the question,” Morisuke says, completely ignoring Tetsurou’s thinly veiled threats like an asshole. “You two do always disappear together. And Lev told me about that time he found you and Kenma cuddling in Kenma’s bunk - “

“Lev needs to learn the meaning of personal privacy.”

“The second that you let Lev fuckin’ Haiba discover you, you sign away all rights to personal privacy. I’d think that’d be obvious.”

“It was just platonic cuddling. All right? Kenma’s warm and comfortable. He’s my best friend. That’s it. Nothing more.”

Morisuke raises an eyebrow at him. “All right, fine. I’m just sayin’, if you two were a thing, far be it from me to disapprove. You can like whoever the fuck you want. Fuck all the homophobes. Don’t let them hold you back.”

Tetsurou grits his teeth. Sometimes he’s struck by the urge to punch Morisuke; now happens to be one of the times that that urge is stronger than ever. “Not to sound like a sixth grader, but I don’t like him  _ like that _ . Now shut up.”

“Fine,” Morisuke says, sounding completely unconvinced. Tetsurou wants to scream.

Thankfully, after a minute or so of silence and awkwardly eating their food, Nobuyuki comes around. “Hey, guys,” he says, his face warm with that newlywed glow. “I’m glad you both could come. I know things are tight with band schedules and all.”

Tetsurou pats him on the back. “Miss having you around. But you seem happy.”

Nobuyuki smiles. “I’m really happy, actually. But I miss you guys too. Next time you’re both home, we can all go out to dinner, yeah? Like the old times.”

“If it’s gonna be like the old times, then we gotta rent out a bus for afterwards so that we can experience once again the rancid smell of Tetsurou’s dirty ass socks,” Morisuke interjects. 

Nobuyuki shudders. “I’m not sure that’s a smell I want to smell ever again in my life.”

“Those were not my socks, fuck you!” 

“Well, they weren’t mine,” Nobuyuki says diplomatically. “And I think they were too big to be Morisuke’s, so…”

“Yeah! Wait - are you callin’ me short? I’m not short, shut up!”   
  


Nobuyuki calls over his wife after that, still laughing. Kira walks over to them with a smile. “Hey, Tetsurou and Morisuke. Long time no see! I’ve been keeping up with your bands, and I really like your new albums.”

“Thanks,” Tetsurou says. “My band’s is better, right?”

“Ha, no  _ way _ ,” Morisuke says. Kira’s smart. She knows it’s mine.”

Kira laughs. “Am I allowed to call it a tie?”

“No,” Tetsurou and Morisuke say emphatically.

“Then I’m afraid I don’t have an answer,” she says. “Nobuyuki misses you guys, though. I’m glad you’re getting a chance to catch up.”

“He doesn’t miss our dirty socks,” Tetsurou says in mock sadness.

“He has plenty of his own to make up for it,” Kira says, shaking her head.

Both Tetsurou and Morisuke whirl on him. “So the dirty sock was  _ yours _ ,” Tetsurou says in an accusatory tone. 

“This whole ass time I was accusing Tetsurou,” Morisuke yelps, “and  _ you  _ were the culprit?”

Nobuyuki shakes his head desperately, grinning from ear to ear. “Kira’s a liar. I swear, I’ve never left a dirty sock lying around in my life.” 

“Hey,” Tetsurou says, suddenly remembering. “I got a tattoo.”

“You got a tattoo?” Nobuyuki asks, his tone dubious.

“I know, I know, low pain tolerance, I’ve already been given shit for it,” Tetsurou says. He takes off his suit jacket, then rolls up the sleeve of his dress shirt enough to show it off. “It’s a black cat. For Neko.”   
  


“Damn,” Morisuke whistles. “It’s not ugly.”

“It’s a really cool tattoo,” Kira agrees, her eyes bright.

“I’m honored that you want a reminder of us permanently on your body,” Nobuyuki says, patting him gently on the shoulder. “It’s been a good ride.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Tetsurou says.

As Nobuyuki and Kira head back to the dance floor, Tetsurou stares back down at his plate. He still can’t help feeling sort of insecure about his lack of a romantic life, about his lack of  _ desire  _ to seek out a romantic life, really, but well, with friends like these - he thinks he’ll be able to make it through regardless.

Though it’d still be nice to have someone. 

.

A few weeks later, he ends up on tour with the band he’s least wanted to tour with possibly ever -  _ Crowfeathers. _

It’s stupid. Completely irrational. He doesn’t know much about the members of the band, anyways, besides superficial knowledge of Hitoka Yachi and what he’s heard from Kenma about Shouyou Hinata. But he doesn’t want to tour with them, doesn’t want to actually meet Shouyou and hear Shouyou talk about Kenma, doesn’t want to think of him as Kenma’s Shouyou, doesn’t want to think about the fact that they hooked up, probably, that Tetsurou isn’t special at all to Kenma.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like he’ll be able to avoid Shouyou, because the short redhead barrels straight at him after Tetsurou descends from the bus.

“Tetsurou Kuroo!” he says brightly. “It has to be you, right? Because of your weird bedhead!” 

“Dumbass,” comes a voice from Shouyou’s side, gentle but chiding despite his harsh words. “You can’t just walk up to people and insult them, you know.”

“What! But you do it all the time, idiot Tobio.”

_ Ah.  _ This tall guy with striking blue eyes must be Tobio Kageyama, then - the band’s main guitarist. Tetsurou gives a slow nod. “It’s fine. Yeah, I’m Tetsurou. You must be Shouyou, then?”

“Yeah! Does Kenma talk about me?” Shouyou’s eyes are bright and innocent. It’d feel wrong somehow to let him down.

Tetsurou nods again, smaller this time. “Yeah, he does.” 

“Ah, that’s cool!” Shouyou enthuses. “I like Kenma, y’know. He’s badass at video games and quiet and funny. But he talks about you all the time too! Kuro this, Kuro that. I feel like I almost know you. I did think you were scary at first because you look kind of scary, but Kenma says you’re not, and I trust him.”

Well. That had been a lot at once. Tetsurou blinks, trying to process the words - Kenma talks about him to people he hooks up with? It doesn’t feel like a particularly romantic description of Kenma, but well, who knows? Before he can reply, Tobio pipes up. “I’m Tobio. And Shouyou, dumbass, don’t only talk about Kenma.”

There’s an undertone of jealousy behind it.  _ What the fuck is going on here. _

“Hitoka told me to make sure you two didn’t get lost,” comes a monotone from behind the two, and Tetsurou thinks, what the fuck, am I getting hit with the entire crazy ass band at once? A tall, bespectacled guy approaches, disdain in his eyes already as he eyes Tetsurou. “Who the hell is this?”

“Tetsurou Kuroo from Black Claw,” Shouyou says. “You know, Kenma’s friend.”

_ Is he known to this entire band as Kenma’s friend?!  _

“Ah,” the newcomer says flatly. He eyes Tetsurou again, his eyes full of judgment. “Well, Kenma’s fine and all, but sorry, I’m not a fan of your music.”

_ Just like that?! _

Tetsurou can’t help but laugh at the guy’s bluntness. He doesn’t know what the hell else he can do in this kind of a situation, where he’s been insulted by some guy he doesn’t even know and everyone knows him exclusively as Kenma’s friend and Tobio and Shouyou are playing some weird jealousy game. Once he calms down a little, he says, “Hell of a thing to say to someone you’ve never met before. Your band not big on politeness?”

The guy shrugs. “Whatever. It’s not like I give a shit what any of them think.”

“This is Kei Tsukishima!” Shouyou chimes in, clearly having picked up that Kei’s not going to introduce himself. 

“Don’t tell him my name,” Kei grumbles, and Tetsurou thinks, hell, this guy could be fun to mess with.

“Nice to meet you, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that,” Kei says disdainfully. 

“It’s a cute nickname. Don’t be such a killjoy.”

Kei glares at him. “Don’t tell him where our bus is,” he instructs the other two. 

The next person to join, because of course Tetsurou has to meet the entire fucking band at once, is a tall guy with freckles, short hair, and a friendly grin. He walks up to Kei, says, “Tsukki, what’s going on?” and Tetsurou waits for Kei’s explosion.

Kei doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he just motions towards Tetsurou. “The asshole from Black Claw is here.”

  
This new guy seems to take this in stride. Tetsurou assumes he’s used to Kei’s moodiness. “Kei’s not in the best mood today, don’t mind him! I’m Tadashi Yamaguchi.” 

Ah, the rhythm guitarist. “Nice to meet you,” Tetsurou says, because he’s not sure what else he can say. Everything about this band makes no sense at all. 

“You should come with us to lunch!” Shouyou chirps.

“You should not,” Kei says.

Oh, that means he should. Despite his reservations about hanging out with Crowfeathers - despite the fact that Shouyou is still registered in his mind as Kenma’s Shouyou - he hates to be told that he shouldn’t do something. So he smirks and says, “Lead the way, Shrimpy.”

“I’m  _ not  _ a shrimp,” Shouyou says, frowning at him, “but okay.”

“You are a little bit of a shrimp, though. Compared to him, at least.”

“Stupid Tobio! I didn’t ask you.”

_ Is this really who Kenma hung out with for an entire tour? How the hell did he survive? _

“Kenma told us about you,” Tadashi says conversationally, and  _ fucking Kenma again, really _ , Tetsurou thinks wryly. “You’re pretty good friends, aren’t you? How’d you meet?”

“He was in the crowd at my show,” Tetsurou says, grinning as he immerses himself in the memory, “and then he came up to me after to give me a copy of his EP. And I loved it, so I told Koutarou about it and Kenma got signed and well, things just escalated from there.”

Kei snorts. “How cliche.”   
  


“Ahh, so you did get him signed,” Tadashi says. He exchanges a look with Kei, a simple raise of his eyebrows that Kei returns, before turning back to Tetsurou.

“Let’s get burgers!” Shouyou says.

“No,” Tobio says. “I want pizza.”

“I want burgers, though.”   
  


“But I want pizza.”

“To-bi-o. Burgers.”

Kei groans. “At this rate, I’m just going to go back to the bus.”

“Do they do this all the time?” Tetsurou mutters to Kei and Tadashi.

“Pretty much constantly,” Kei says bitterly. “They argue over everything. Either that, or they make everything into a competition. It’s annoying as hell.” 

“Oh, there’s Hitoka!” Tadashi grins. “Hey, we’re going to get lunch. Do you want burgers or pizza?”

“Hm.” A tiny girl approaches them, her blonde hair pulled back into a pigtail and held back with butterfly clips, a thoughtful look on her face. “I was thinking tacos, actually. I mean, if that’s okay! I don’t want to be the only one to disagree or anything!”

Tobio and Shouyou look at each other, identical looks of awe on their faces. “Tacos,” they say in unison.

So they end up at a Mexican restaurant nearby, Tetsurou and all of the members of Crowfeathers. Tetsurou has to wonder how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation. Shouyou seems to think it fit to regale Tetsurou with tales of all of the times he and Kenma had been on tour together, Kei chiming in with snarky comments about what had actually happened on each occasion. Hitoka seems a little nervous: constantly glancing back at the door, like someone’s going to break into a random restaurant and rob all of them. Tobio truly seems determined to compete with Shouyou over every little thing, including how quickly they can eat the food on their plates. Tadashi seems to be along for the ride, grinning at everyone at the table: arguably the most sane person at the table, Tetsurou’s convinced. 

Tetsurou can’t help but think that it’s going to be a hell of a tour. 

.

He’s proven correct when, not two days later, Shouyou shows up at Black Claw’s bus flanked by both Koushi and Daichi.  _ How the fuck does he do it,  _ Tetsurou wonders - gets all these random people wrapped around his fingers. Tetsurou has only found that  _ that  _ level of naturalness had occurred only for him with one person. 

“Tetsurou!” Shouyou says eagerly. “You should come play with us!” 

“Play with you?”

“Shouyou found a volleyball net nearby and wants us all to play a game with him.”

“Crowfeathers against Black Claw!” Shouyou says.

“Volleyball, huh?” Tetsurou’s eyes gleam. “I admit I did have a little bit of experience with volleyball back in high school.”

“What position?” Shouyou says. There’s pure excitement in his expression as well - which both is nice to see, but also is alarming, in a way. He doesn’t exactly want to have things in common with Shouyou. It’d indicate that Kenma has a type. 

“Guess,” Tetsurou says with a smirk.

“Middle blocker,” Shouyou says confidently after eyeing Tetsurou for a second.

“Hm?” Tetsurou raises an eyebrow at him. “Do I give off middle blocker vibes or somethin’? But yes, I was a middle blocker.”

“Middle blockers are tall and crafty,” Shouyou says. “I always wanted to be a middle blocker! But my high school never had a team, so I only ever played for fun.”

“Suga was a setter,” Daichi says, glancing over at Koushi, “and I’ve played a little bit as a wing spiker. So we could make a pretty badass team.”

Shouyou manages to round up everyone from both bands, including a very unamused looking Kei. Kei scoffs. “I don’t play volleyball,” he says, scoffing like it’s an insult to even imply that he should play. 

“I don’t either, to be fair,” Kiyoko says. “I ran track in high school.”

Hitoka gulps, looking at the volleyball. “If one of you big guys hit that at me, you could break my arms off. Or knock out my teeth. Or take off my head.”

“Aw, c’mon, volleyball’s not that dangerous!” Shouyou protests. “I’ve only knocked out, like, one tooth, sprained my ankle, and broken one finger in the years I’ve been playing.”

This does not seem to reassure Hitoka. “Yeah,” she says, her voice wavering, “only broken one finger.” It’s interesting to him - he hadn’t expected so many of the lead singers of bands, the supposed frontmen, to be so timid and nervous. From the limited performances he’s seen, Hitoka Yachi is enthusiastic on stage, engaging with the audience, and certainly never seems to be like she’s on the verge of a breakdown. 

They split into the two teams, though - Hitoka being allowed to sit out to make the two teams an even number of players. Their team wins the serve and Tetsurou immediately throws the ball to Daichi. “I get the feeling you’ll have a killer serve,” he says, grinning. 

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Daichi grumbles, but he catches the ball anyways.

He finds out more about everyone during the game than he thought he would. First of all, Shouyou can jump. He’s not the tallest guy on the court; in fact, he’s one of the smaller ones, but he jumps higher than anyone on the court. He himself is competitive, but Koushi’s even more competitive, coming up with plots to destroy the opponents. And Kei doesn’t give a shit about the game at all.

After Kei comes down from a poorly timed block that Daichi can easily get through, Tetsurou smirks at him. “Maybe the reason you don’t like volleyball is because you suck,” he says, half taunting, half serious. 

Kei scowls at him, looking as though he’s about to say something, and Tadashi’s eyes widen. After a minute, Kei just shuts his mouth, shaking his head. “Asshole,” he mutters under his breath. 

“And unashamed of it,” Tetsurou replies. 

Daichi puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s volleyball,” he says dryly. “Shouldn’t be this big of a thing.” 

It’s harder to antagonize people with Daichi around, Tetsurou finds. He grins, shaking his head. “Sure, sure. Just a fun game.”

Later that night, though, he gets a call from Kenma about it.

“Why did Kei text me and ask why my ‘best friend’ is the world’s biggest asshole?”   
  


“Damn. Didn’t know Kei and Keiji had such a volatile relationship.” 

“Obviously he’s talking about you, Kuro.”

“Ha,” Tetsurou says. “I pissed him off during volleyball. Told him maybe the reason he doesn’t like it is because he sucks at it.”

Kenma sighs. “Kuro.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. He’ll get over himself,” Tetsurou says. “But hey, you just call me to complain about Kei? What kind of best friend is that?”

He can practically hear Kenma roll his eyes on the other end of the line. “Fine. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Tour is interesting. Crowfeathers is… well, a  _ lot,  _ I’m not gonna lie. Kind of shocked that you get along with them.”

“Shouyou doesn’t really give you another option,” Kenma says carefully. “He just… makes you get along with him in a way. But it’s fine. You’ll get used to them.”

“He bickers with Tobio constantly.”

“It’s just their way of communicating,” Kenma informs him. “I don’t think they can communicate in any way except for useless bickering and competitions.” There’s an undertone of judgment in his voice that makes Tetsurou wonder: he’d thought that Kenma was soft on Shouyou, but he doesn’t exactly sound soft at the moment. “They’re not exactly the brightest bulbs in the bunch.”

“But… you like Shouyou?”

“He’s my friend,” Kenma says nonchalantly. “Somehow. But that doesn’t mean I have an unrealistic view of him.”

“So you didn’t hook up with him?” Tetsurou blurts out before he can stop himself.

It’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment, before Kenma laughs, tiny and quiet. “With  _ Shouyou _ ?”

“Yeah?” 

“No,” Kenma says, his voice full of amusement. “Why would you think I would hook up with Shouyou? I don’t hook up with every friend that I talk to, you know, and Shouyou’s more like a… I don’t know, a normal friend. Whatever it is, it isn’t sexual.” 

“Oh,” Tetsurou says, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. He’d made a pretty big assumption, after all, and now Kenma might figure out how he’s feeling, that he’s feeling weird about Kenma being with other people, and - 

And yet he’s relieved. And he feels a little bit better about hanging out with Crowfeathers, although a little guilty for how he’s acted towards them. 

“Stop acting stupid,” Kenma grumbles. 

Tetsurou can’t help but smile as he imagines the way Kenma’s face would wrinkle up, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “I miss you,” he says, without really thinking about it.

“...I miss you too,” Kenma admits reluctantly. “Stop antagonizing Crowfeathers, or they’re going to question my choice of friends.” 

“I never have antagonized anyone. Ever. In my life.”

“You admitted to it five minutes ago.”

“Where’s your proof?” 

“What, is this permission to start tape recording our calls?”

“Gonna use them to jerk off to?”

“ _ Kuro. _ ”

“I’m just saying.”

“I’m going to hang up on you.” 

“Don’t,” Tetsurou says, his voice softer. “Not yet.”

Kenma sighs like it’s a big inconvenience, but Tetsurou can read the undertones of his voice now, the way that his emotions are hinted at even when he’s talking flatly or just sighing, and he knows he’s not actually upset. “Fine,” Kenma says.

Tetsurou uses almost half of his monthly minutes on that single phone call. It’s worth it, though, he thinks as he falls asleep with Kenma’s soft voice still ringing in his head. 

.

When they arrive in their next city the next day, Tetsurou immediately sets out in search of a bakery. Once he finally finds one, he purchases a delicious-looking cake, and then totes it over to the Crowfeathers bus. 

Shouyou, of course, is the one to open the door. “Tetsurou!” he says cheerily, and then, looking down at the cake - “Is it someone’s birthday or something?”

“Uh, no,” Tetsurou says, a little bit nervously. “It’s just… I wanted to do something nice.”

“Something nice?” Shouyou says skeptically.

“He poisoned the cake,” comes Kei’s voice from behind Shouyou.

“What the fuck, I did not,” Tetsurou says. “It’s just a normal cake. I’m just a nice person who likes to do nice things for others.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to try it!” Shouyou says.

“Cake does sound good,” Tobio agrees. 

“What if you get fucking poisoned, you idiots?” Kei asks.

“Eating cake is a good way to die,” Tobio says. 

“I agree,” Shouyou says, taking the cake out of Tetsurou’s hands. 

“Be polite,” Hitoka chides him, from where she’s sitting on the couch, a book in her hands. 

“Fine, thank you,” Shouyou says, almost like a child, then takes the cake over to the table. “Kei, get some plates!” 

“Why the hell would I do that? I’m not poisoning myself.”

“It’s not poisoned!” Shouyou protests, taking a finger and dipping it into the frosting, then licking the frosting off. “See?” 

“Poison takes longer to kill you than that,” Tetsurou points out.

“So you admit it’s poisoned?” Kei says. 

“The hell kind of murderer would I be if I confessed to my murder plan before even carrying it out?” Tetsurou replies lazily. 

Kei glares at him, and Tetsurou grins. Well, it seems, he can make good with most of the band - as evidenced by the beaming smiles on Tobio and Shouyou’s faces as they eat the cake, and the tinier smiles on Tadashi and Hitoka’s as Tadashi passes a plate to Hitoka - but maybe some people he’s just bound to never get along with.  _ Sorry, Kenma -  _ Kei might be questioning his taste in ‘friends’ for a while longer. 

“Hey, sit for a minute, Tetsurou!” Shouyou says. “We were just gonna play Uno.”

“We were not,” Kei says. “You and Tobio were.” 

“I said I’d play,” Tadashi tells him gently. “And Hitoka agreed too.”

“I’ll play if Kei plays,” Tetsurou says, because it seems like the best way to piss off Kei. 

Shouyou, Hitoka, and Tadashi all turn their hopeful eyes onto Kei, which seems to be enough to break down Kei’s (apparently not at all tough) resolve. “Fine,” he mutters eventually. “Fine, whatever, I’ll play. One game.”

_ One game  _ turns into five, then ten. Kei acts like he doesn’t care, but it’s obvious he does by the way his eyes flash when Shouyou or Tobio win. Plus, Tobio and Kei get into quite a few arguments over whether Tobio is “cheating”. Tetsurou just delights in using his +4 and +2 cards at every opportunity, which means that the others keep rearranging to stay away from him. All in all, though, it’s not the worst time Tetsurou’s ever had. 

Maybe this tour won’t completely suck, after all. 

.

One night late into the tour, Tetsurou comes back to his bus to see Daichi with his arm around Shouyou’s shoulders, Shouyou babbling up at Daichi with an admiring look on his face, and the only thing that tumbles out of Tetsurou’s mouth is, “What the fuck.”

“Shouyou was just asking for some life advice,” Daichi says plainly. “Not everything in the world is as weird as your messed up brain thinks it is.”

“Always so kind,” Tetsurou says blithely. “What are you, his dad?”

“Daichi would be a pretty cool dad,” Shouyou says. “He kind of acts like a dad sometimes already.” 

Daichi’s brow furrows. “Do I act like a dad?”

“You scolded me for wearing my shoes in my own fucking bunk yesterday,” Tetsurou complains.

“Well, you probably shouldn’t wear your shoes in your bunk,” Shouyou says.

“Give me a break! I was exhausted and passed out without remembering to take them off. But Daichi had enough energy to scold me.”

“Nothing wrong with being a dad,” Koushi says. “You do wear dad hats a lot.” 

Daichi adjusts the baseball cap on his head, looking a little worried as he crosses his arms. “Is this a dad hat?” he says, somewhat self-consciously. 

“My dad doesn’t wear those kind of hats,” Koushi says reassuringly, but then follows it up with, “But my grandpa owns at least thirty.”

“A grandfather?” Daichi asks, a stricken look on his face. “Oh my god.”

“You’re gonna send him into a midlife crisis,” Kiyoko chides, not even looking up from her book. 

“Oh, Kiyoko!” Shouyou’s face brightens. “I didn’t see you there! Hitoka was looking for you! She said she wanted to go get some lunch with you! Something about paying you back for the other day or something.” 

“Ah,” Kiyoko says with a nod. “Yes, I did promise her a lunch date today. I’ll go find her. Where was she last, Shouyou?” 

“She’s still on the bus, I think!” Shouyou says. “Talking to Tadashi and Kei about some kind of boring academic thing or like news or something, I don’t remember.” 

“News is a boring academic thing?” Koushi mouths to Daichi, who just shrugs. 

Once Kiyoko heads out, Shouyou turns to the rest of them with a smile. “Kiyoko is super pretty, don’t you think?”

“Hey, watch it, Shorty,” Tetsurou says with a warning tone. “Stick to your own band.”

“Not like  _ that _ ,” Shouyou protests. “Just like she’s a pretty girl! I think Hitoka is pretty too. And Yukie. Also some guys - Koushi is pretty!” 

“Thanks, kiddo,” Koushi says with a grin. 

“I’m 24!” Shouyou protests. “That’s not a kid!” 

“24 is a young soul,” Tetsurou says dramatically.

“Aren’t you just 26 or something?!”

“Yes, but my soul is in the sixties already.”

Daichi rolls his eyes. “Don’t corrupt the kids with your bullshit.”

“You just cursed. You’re the one who’s corrupting them.”

“I’m not a kid,” Shouyou protests. “Just because I’m not _ really tall  _ doesn’t make me a child!” 

Daichi laughs, squeezing Shouyou’s shoulder. “It’s not because of that. Come on, let’s go get some lunch. Tetsurou, you’re invited - I guess.” 

“You guess?” Tetsurou complains, but Koushi drags him off, so he doesn’t have much time to complain.

.

The rest of that tour passes in the blink of an eye, Tetsurou getting dragged into too many of Crowfeathers’ shenanigans - but it’s a far cry from the disaster that he’d imagined it would be. And then, once it’s over, that summer, Tetsurou finally gets put on Warped. 

He calls Kenma excitedly, not thinking about the fact that it’s 10 in the morning and Kenma doesn’t wake up until the day is half over. “What?” Kenma says groggily.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“Kuro,” Kenma groans. “Just tell me what you want before I hang up and go back to sleep.”

“Fine, fine. We’re going on Warped together this year.”

“Oh?” Kenma says, sounding a little bit brighter. “You’re finally on Warped?”

“I was on Warped before you even existed, I’ll have you know.”

“I existed before I was a part of Catfight. I was in my high school band.”

“That you refuse to show me for some reason.”

“It’s humiliating. Isn’t that enough of a reason?” 

“Have I ever made fun of you even once?”

“Too many times, actually.” 

“About what?!”

“You just made fun of me for not being a morning person.”

“There’s a difference between ‘not being a morning person’ and ‘not waking up until 2 to 3 pm for any reason,’ you know.” 

“Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with either one of them.” 

“Fine, fine, you have a point. Do what you like. I was just calling to tell you about Warped.”

“It’ll be fun,” Kenma says. “Warped is a lot, though. And there are a lot of bands going this year. Crowfeathers, Iron Wall, POWERHOUSE, The Maine, We The Kings…”

“Full Soul’s too big for Warped now, huh?”

“Yeah, and so is Bluecastle, apparently. They’ve been getting more and more popular these days. Which… isn’t the best for Tooru, I don’t think.”

“Still fighting with Hajime?”

“Yeah. Difference of creative opinions, as bands always say when they split.”

“Do you think they’re gonna...?”   
  


Kenma sighs. “I don’t know, Kuro. From what I’m hearing, it sounds like they’re better off as best friends rather than bandmates, especially considering how Tooru can get sometimes. He says he understands that Hajime and he are equal partners in the band, but that he and Hajime still can’t agree on what direction they want the band to go in. Tooru likes the bubblegum indie pop image they’re heading towards. But Hajime wants something a little more serious, I think. So… I don’t know. It could be for the best.”

“Shit,” Tetsurou says, breathing out. “It’s weird, thinking about it. Every band breaks up at some point.” 

“What about U2? It’s been over 30 years for them.”

  
“That’s true,” Tetsurou says, leaning back against the wall. “But I’m not sure I could see myself doing this for my entire life.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Kenma says. “Not with Lev, at least.”

“You’d be a saint if you did. But hey - don’t leave me alone just yet, yeah?”

“You wouldn’t be alone. You have your band members, and Full Soul, and even Morisuke is still in a band.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Hm,” Kenma says, his voice soft, thoughtful, and for a moment, Tetsurou wonders if he’s gone too far - said something that was too much for the casual, best friends who fuck relationship that they have right now. But then Kenma says, “I wasn’t planning on it any time soon, anyways.”

“Good,” Tetsurou says. They’re not even in the same room, but the air feels heavy around him anyways, and Tetsurou thinks he might suffocate on it. “I have to go. Go back to sleep since you’re so concerned about me interrupting your precious sleep, then.”

“I will,” Kenma says. “Goodbye, Kuro.”

“See you soon.”

“Yeah. Soon,” Kenma says, sounding half-asleep already, and Tetsurou hangs up with a smile on his face.

.

“Kenma! He’s here!” comes a loud voice as soon as Tetsurou arrives at the first Warped stop and steps off of his bus. “Kenmaaaa!” 

“Who’s here?” is the resounding grumble, and Tetsurou feels a smile stretch his face. 

“Hey,” Tetsurou says awkwardly, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s never been exactly good at reuniting with people. 

But Kenma’s saying, “Hey, Kuro,” and walking up to him, and Tetsurou can’t stop himself from darting forward to scoop Kenma up in his arms, lifting him up off of the ground to squeeze him. Kenma struggles in his arms, saying, “Oh my god, you’re being embarrassing, put me down.”

For once, Tetsurou complies, still grinning from ear to ear. He says, “Back on tour together, huh?”

“You really are best friends!” Shouyou chirps before Kenma can even respond, his eyes wide. “I thought since you guys are so different it would be hard - but that’s cool!” 

“Kenma,” Kei chimes in, “you’re really friends with this asshole? I expected better of you.”

“He’s not that bad,” Kenma says. “He grows on you.”

“Not that bad?!” Tetsurou yelps. “Were you, or were you not, my fan and the one who talked to me first? I feel like that’s a little beyond  _ not that bad _ \- but okay.” 

“Shut up,” Kenma says, rolling his eyes and elbowing Tetsurou. “That was before I got to know who you really are.”

“Who is who I really am?” 

“Awfully philosophical,” Kei drawls, still looking unamused, while Kenma answers with, “You’re just an obnoxious dork,” though his voice sounds a little bit fond. “Get lunch with me?”

“I’d like nothing more,” Tetsurou replies. 

But then, of course, because no one on this tour knows how to leave well enough alone, Shouyou pops up, holding onto Kenma’s arm while he insists that Kenma take him along for the lunch plans. And when Shouyou comes Tobio must also come, so Tetsurou and Kenma end up heading to lunch along with both of the idiot patrol, as Tetsurou’s begun to (almost affectionately) refer to them. He and Kenma end up on one side of the table, his leg nearly brushing Kenma’s under the table. Smiling slightly, Tetsurou brushes his leg against Kenma’s, and Kenma gently kicks at his leg. 

It feels like a date, Tetsurou realizes all of a sudden. 

Tobio and Shouyou have started in on their arguments about the best dish on the menu, getting closer as they argue. Kenma elbows him gently, tilting his head towards the other two.  _ You think there’s something going on there?  _ His expression asks.

Tetsurou nods in response.  _ Probably. _

Which means that this is basically a date. Because Tobio and Shouyou are all but flirting across the table, and he’s playing footsie with Kenma under the table, and it’s not like he can call their relationship fully platonic, not when they’re fucking and cuddling and kissing and everything in between. But the problem remains: he’s not interested in Kenma like that. Sexually, sure, it’s not like he can deny that any longer. But romantically? Not so much. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself through the rest of the lunch, as Shouyou babbles on about anything and everything and bickers with Tobio while Tetsurou jumps in with random comments, which then gets Kenma to jump in to bicker with him. It’s a nice dynamic, Tetsurou thinks - and despite how endeared Kenma still seems to Shouyou, looking at him with a slight smile, the anger that had pooled in his stomach is all but gone. Kenma’s not interested in  _ Shouyou _ like that.

(But what does that matter? Why does he care?)

It doesn’t hit him until later that week. He feels like he’s going to explode: there’s no such thing as privacy on Warped. He’s tried to pull Kenma into different corners, but there’s always a Lev banging on the door yelling about how he has to take a shit, or a Shouyou yelling at them to come participate in the water gun fight, or a Sou insisting that they have to come to karaoke with them, or a member of We the Kings or something coming to introduce himself and ask them to get some food. When they’re walking out and about, there’s fans mobbing them at any opportunity: especially if they’re walking together. Then it becomes a matter of “Tetsuken” and people trying to get photos of them from weird angles. It’s overwhelming for Tetsurou. Tetsurou’s sure it must be worse for Kenma, who hates attention and values his time of solitude. 

So he gets fed up and one day, when they’re both scheduled to perform earlier in the day, he books a hotel for a couple of hours. 

“You booked an hourly hotel,” Kenma says, eyes dancing with amusement. “What are you, some kind of sleazy old man?”

“If that’s what you want me to be, baby,” Tetsurou says, batting his eyelashes. 

“Gross,” Kenma says. 

He grins and laughs as he presses his lips against Kenma’s, the familiar feeling almost addictive. Despite Kenma’s remark that he’s gross, Kenma still kisses back fervently, twining his hands into Tetsurou’s hair and giving it a firm yank. Tetsurou can’t help the way he moans against Kenma’s lips; it’s been far too long since he’s had this, felt the warmth of Kenma’s body against his own, felt Kenma’s mouth moving down his throat, pressing gentle kisses and bites, felt the way Kenma moves against him - desperate and yet sweet somehow, his tiny kisses and moans piercing the air. 

After Kenma tugs off Tetsurou’s shirt, he looks at Tetsurou’s arm, raising his eyebrows. “Your tattoo,” he says softly. He presses a hand against it tenderly. “It looks better in person.”

“Ha,” Tetsurou says, still breathless. “You saying it looked bad before?”

“No,” Kenma says, “but it looks hot now.”

God. Hearing Kenma say that does more for him than any dirty talk ever could. He leans back in, their mouths clashing, even more heated now than before. 

After they’re finished, Kenma doesn’t even pretend that they’re going to lay apart - he collapses on Tetsurou’s chest, his head tucked there, face glowing with sweat. Tetsurou smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to Kenma’s forehead. It strikes him, the gentle tenderness and warmth with which he’d done it, as though it was automatic. But it doesn’t mean anything. 

Or does it?

He looks back down at Kenma, at the peaceful contentment written all over his features, the way Tetsurou thinks he’s beautiful even like this,  _ especially _ like this - curled up against Tetsurou’s bare chest, his hair a mess and his face still slightly red, and it finally hits him.

He’s in love with Kenma Kozume.

There’s nothing platonic about it. He wants Kenma, wants him in every possible way. He wants to kiss him tenderly and hold his hand while they walk, his hand tiny in Tetsurou’s, and to go on dates to arcades and restaurants and amusement parks. He wants to dance with Kenma, to sleep next to Kenma every night and wake up every morning with Kenma being the first thing he sees. It’s everything that he’s felt in the past for other people he’s dated, and yet it’s also something completely new. 

His heart stops beating. 

He’s in  _ love _ . With a guy. Kenma is different than any other guy he knows, but he’s still definitely a guy. What the fuck does this mean? When this had been purely sexual, it had been easy enough to pretend that it was just to get off, just for the release, but now his heart is in it too. Is he not straight, then? Is he gay? But no - he still likes women, and the only guy he’s been interested in pretty much ever is Kenma. Are there other words? Bisexual, maybe? Straight with exceptions? Is that a thing? 

“Kuro,” he hears, cutting through the noise in his head, but he can’t bring himself to reply. “Kuro.  _ Tetsurou _ . Are you okay?” 

Tetsurou bites down hard on his lip. The sharp rush of pain is enough to shock him out of his trance. Finally, finally, he’s able to speak, to say, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He runs a hand through Kenma’s hair reassuringly, but the action feels too fond, and his hand feels like it’s on fire where it touches Kenma.

There’s one thing that he knows for sure, though - he cannot tell Kenma about this new development. 

Kenma seems to be fine with the way things are. Telling him about Tetsurou’s abrupt realization would throw their status quo completely off, could threaten the easy routine that they’ve fallen into, disrupt the two of them completely. And even beyond that, even if he did tell Kenma, even if Kenma did reciprocate: it’d throw everything out of whack. They’d lose fans who weren’t okay with gay relationships. Tetsurou can’t imagine having to tell his family and friends that he’s in a relationship with a man, not after years and years of being in relationships with women. He just can’t imagine being in a relationship with a man, either - it feels so odd and foreign to imagine. 

He’s been told his entire life in no uncertain terms that he’d one day marry a woman. His grandparents had pointed out marriage advertisements, his grandmother ruffling his hair and saying wistfully, “That’ll be you one day, proposing to your future wife.” He’d listened to his dad and grandparents contemplating the kind of woman he’d marry one day. He’d heard the people around him comparing what type of girl they were interested in, had thought absently about how he might propose to a girl, what his wedding day would be like. He’d even thought about what his kids would look like someday - would they inherit his bedhead? His droopy eyes?

Being with Kenma would be not only giving all of that up, but taking it away from Kenma as well. It’d be thrusting himself and Kenma into the spotlight as one of the few openly gay couples on the scene, and Kenma loathes that kind of attention. Hell, it’s not even legal for him to marry Kenma, might never be. All that combined with the fact that Kenma probably doesn’t want anything to change… 

He’s not going to change anything. He can’t bear to stop the shit he’s doing with Kenma, can’t bear to bring them back to  _ just friends _ , but he’s not going to take it any further. He’ll keep up this destructive pattern until one of them breaks it off or they implode somehow.

And on another level altogether, he’s seen what ‘love’ amounts to. He’s seen when people vow to love each other their entire lives and then let that fade to dust. He’s seen the yelling, the screaming until their voices give out, the hurling of vases that crumble against the wall. He’s not even certain he believes in love, fully - or at least, he doesn’t believe in what his genetics have said is his ability to love.

Still, his voice feels tender as he brushes his lips over the top of Kenma’s head again and says, “Get some sleep.” 

Kenma doesn’t move - only snuggles up further into Tetsurou’s chest. “G’night,” he mumbles sleepily, and Tetsurou’s chest aches.

_ Has he always been so adorable?  _

He sleeps uneasily that night, far too aware of the pressure of Kenma’s body on his chest, of the way his arm is curled tightly around Kenma’s back, their bodies touching at almost every possible junction. He thinks that this right here might be the death of him.

Well, if so, he’s lived a good life.

He makes a post on his LiveJournal the next day. 

**me & you**

_ curled up against my chest _

_ i gently stroke your hair _

_ far above all the rest  _ _   
_ _ so beautiful, so fair _

_ don’t disrupt this moment, i pray _

_ right here, forever, i’d stay _


	9. Take This Lonely Heart

I've got a message that you can't ignore

Maybe I'm just not the man I was before

Take this from me, take this lonely heart

'Cause I, 'cause I don't need it no more

_ \- Take This Lonely Heart,  Nothing But Thieves _

“We’re making a vlog!” 

Tetsurou looks down at the camera in Lev’s hand worriedly. “Uh, who gave you permission to do that?”

“We don’t need permission,” Lev says haughtily. “We’re 25 years old, you know!” 

“Kenma said one time he let you play on his old DS and you managed to break it in half.”

“Lev got it fixed,” Sou informs him. “So it ended up fine!” 

Shouhei, thankfully, shows up then, gently removing the camera from Lev’s grip - which, though Tetsurou doesn’t know a ton about technology, seems like it’s fairly nice, and therefore probably a good idea to remove such an expensive piece of equipment from the slippery fingers of one Lev Haiba. “We are making a vlog,” Shouhei says flatly. “However, I am the cameraman.”

“Kenma isn’t?” Tetsurou says, a little surprised. He knows how much Kenma hates the idea of social interaction; it’d make sense for him to insist on being behind the camera, where no one can see him.

Shouhei smiles. “He tried,” he says mysteriously, “but Lev insisted that since he’s the frontman, he needs to be on camera or else the fans will be upset.”

“Lev has a point!” Sou says, nodding excitedly. 

“But it won’t matter,” Taketora interrupts, throwing his arms around Lev and Sou’s shoulders so that he can hit their heads together, “because once they see  _ me _ , no one’s gonna care about Kenma’s boring ass anymore.”

“Kenma’s boring ass?” Tetsurou questions. He can’t help but feel obligated to stand up for his best friend slash… well, whatever the fuck Kenma is to him at this point. The guy he’s in love with. God, that still stings.

“You know what I mean,” Taketora says flippantly. “He’ll get all stiff and awkward when he’s on camera, just like he does when he’s in interviews.”

“That’s why I’m gonna get candid footage of him,” Lev says importantly. “Real footage of Kenma Kozume, just living his everyday life - “

“Don’t barge in on him in the bathroom,” Tetsurou interrupts. “He might actually kill you.”

“Hey, come on! I wasn’t planning on doing that!” Lev protests, but the look on his face says that he was absolutely going to do that. Shouhei snickers.

Kenma walks up to them, a wary look on his face - for good reason, Tetsurou thinks, considering their current topic of conversation. Lev slaps Shouhei on the arm excitedly. “Well, get out the camera! This is prime filming material!”

“There’s literally nothing going on right now that’s worth filming,” Kenma says, frowning at them. 

“Well, there might be. Maybe if you’re around Tetsurou, you’ll loosen up a little,” Shouhei says. 

Kenma glances at Tetsurou, meets his eyes for a split second, and Tetsurou’s breath catches in his throat at the intensity of Kenma’s gaze. He always has that same look - a look like he’s thinking about something with a lot of brainpower, and yet it still always catches Tetsurou by surprise. Kenma lifts an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

“Tetsurou’s good at provoking people!” Taketora says with a grin. “Now start filming already, would ya?” Shouhei reluctantly picks up the camera, while Taketora positions himself in front of it, his grin huge. “Hi everyone, and welcome to Cats Fighting #1!” 

“That’s the best he could come up with?” Tetsurou mouths to Kenma, who just shrugs, looking similarly unamused.

“I’m your favorite member of Catfight, Taketora Yamamoto,” Taketora says brightly. “Here with me I have the other members of the band - Sou, Lev, and Kenma, and Shouhei’s filming! Today we’re on Warped, and we’re just standing around.”

“Great intro,” Kenma mutters, and Tetsurou can’t help laughing his usual loud, raucous laugh. 

“Hey, I’m Sou!” Sou says. “Though you might already know that if you’re watching, because you might be a fan of our band already! If you are, then thanks.” 

“You didn’t even introduce me,” Tetsurou says. 

“This is Kuro,” Kenma says, “who is apparently incapable of introducing himself.” 

“Tetsurou Kuroo,” Tetsurou says self-importantly. “Lead singer of Black Claw, and the most beautiful man on the planet according to some of you.”

Kenma snorts. “And clearly the most humble.”

“Humble and beautiful,” Tetsurou says, ruffling his hair and making Kenma scowl up at him. “What a catch, am I right? And on the market as well!” 

Kenma’s eyes flash. The anger in his faux scowl somehow seems more pronounced. 

Before Tetsurou can think about what that might mean, Taketora is saying in a very loud voice, “Damn, Shouhei, you were right! Kenma does loosen up when Tetsu’s around! We’ve gotta find a way to put him in every video to keep the fans entertained!” 

Kenma’s scowl only deepens. “Shut up,” he says, kicking Taketora’s ankle. “I’m entertaining on my own.”

“Anyone who’s watched your interviews will know that’s bullshit,” Taketora says, apparently unafraid of Kenma’s wrath. “Um… yes, I’m Kenma, and I like music. I like being a performer. Our fans are cool, I guess. What do I do in my free time? Uh, video games, mostly. What got me into music? Can’t I just like music on my own?” 

Kenma basically growls, and Tetsurou reflexively grabs onto Kenma to hold him back, because he has a feeling that this could turn violent. “Nothing wrong with being bad at interviews,” Tetsurou says cheerily.

“I’m not bad at interviews,” Kenma protests. 

“Anyways,” Taketora continues, “we’re going to give you a tour around Warped today and see who we run into. Oh - look, salty boy from Crowfeathers is right over there!” 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who Taketora’s referring to. When Taketora darts over to Kei, extending a fake microphone to him, Kei sighs. “I’m declining requests for interviews at the moment,” he says flatly.

“Aw,” Tetsurou says. “Shouldn’t a true musician always be open to talking with his fans?”

Kei glares at Tetsurou, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning his head back against the bus. “They are not my fans,” he says flatly. “Or if they were, that’d be the only ounce of good taste in their bodies, Kenma excepted. Wait - why exactly are you holding Kenma?”

“I thought he might kill Taketora.”

“Let him, then. The world is suffering from overpopulation.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Kenma mumbles in agreement, and Tetsurou makes a mental note to do his best to keep Kenma away from Kei, lest the two start a mass murder spree. “Too bad I’d have to find a new lead guitarist in that case.”   
  


“Don’t you have two guitarists?”

“That would imply promoting Lev,” Kenma replies, and both of them shudder.

“Hey!” both Lev and Taketora protest. Taketora continues, “I didn’t plan these vlogs for Kenma to talk shit about me the whole time!” 

“And me!” Lev adds.

“Ah, well, that was gonna happen no matter what,” Taketora says. 

Tetsurou grins. “Oh, are we allowed to talk shit about our band members now? Because just the other day, Daichi - “

“Only Catfight band members,” Taketora interrupts.

“I don’t want to talk shit about my band members, though,” Sou replies. “I want to talk about how cool they are! Kenma is a really awesome singer, and Lev is really energetic, and Taketora’s guitar work is great, and Shouhei’s drumming - “

“Hang on!” Lev protests. “How come you complimented everyone on their instrument but me?”

“Just gonna pretend I was never here with these idiots,” Kei says. 

“No!” Taketora grabs the sleeve of Kei’s shirt, and Kei looks like he’s about to give up on life. “We’re gonna interview you! It’s convenient, since you’re here!” 

“Just interview Rooster Asshole,” Kei says. “He’s not in your band.”

“Our fans want new content,” Lev says. “Tetsurou is old news.”

“Excuse me,” Tetsurou says, because that’s offensive - he’s not  _ old news _ . The fans love him, right? Catfight’s fans are still fans of his… right? 

“What’s your favorite color?” Lev asks urgently.

“This is my interview, excuse me,” Taketora says, elbowing him. 

“Are you two going to ask questions from the first day of fucking kindergarten?” Kei snorts. “This is an awful interview.”

“Because Lev was asking the questions!” Taketora protests. “Now I’ll be doing the questions, so they’ll be badass as fuck. Uh… what’s your favorite animal?”

“This is the worst interview ever.”

Tetsurou squeezes Kenma, finally noticing that he’s yet to let go of him, and yet not wanting to let go of him the slightest bit. “They should go find Shouyou,” he says softly. “Shouyou’ll love to be interviewed, even if it’s the two buffoons doing it.” 

“Yeah,” Kenma agrees. “He’d be into it. But yet, it’s funnier to see Kei destroying the two of them.”

Kenma’s evil side is truly shining right now, more obvious than ever. And yet, Tetsurou’s love doesn’t waver one bit. 

It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting. God, he just wants it to go away - to go back to before he’d been aware of his love, because it feels about a million times worse, knowing and not being able to do anything about it.

He drops his arm and immediately regrets it. 

“You’ve got a point,” he says. “Hey, uh, wanna ditch this party while they’re distracted with Kei?”

Kenma’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a little more light in his eyes as he says, “Of course.”

.

Tetsurou opens the door one morning soon after to be greeted with a blast of water directly in the face. 

“What the fuck,” he says, wiping the water from his face, and then gets something tossed at him. Reflexively, he catches it, then looks down to see that it’s a plastic water gun. He looks up to yell again, but Shouyou’s already waving with a mischievous grin on his face. “We’ve kidnapped Kiyoko, by the way!” he says cheerily. “We tried to kidnap Koushi but Daichi tried to punch us and then Koushi kicked us, so we took Kiyoko instead because no one was near her! So you’ll have to come get her! Okay, bye!” The shrimp takes off, and Tetsurou blinks. 

_ Oh, it’s on,  _ Tetsurou thinks, clutching the water gun tighter in his grasp. These brats don’t know who the hell they’re messing with. He was the laser tag champion of Neko three years in a row. No one can dethrone him. 

But he needs a team. He glances frantically around the bus, only to see that Kiyoko might have actually been kidnapped because she definitely isn’t there, and neither are Koushi or Daichi. He could go find Koushi or Daichi, but that’d waste precious time. No - he’ll go for the person who is 100% still in bed. 

Sure enough, when he barges into the Catfight bus, the lights are out and he can hear the quiet sound of Kenma’s breathing. But then a large figure jumps into his line of vision, and Tetsurou screams. 

“Hey, be quiet!” comes Lev Haiba’s voice. “Kenma’s still sleeping, you know!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t fucking scared the shit out of me,” Tetsurou says, trying to catch his breath and get his heartbeat back under control. “Jesus fuck, Lev.”

“What the hell is going on,” comes a quiet mumble from behind him. He turns around to see Kenma, of course, standing there, his hair messy from sleep, down and framing his face rather than in a ponytail, his eyes still glassy. He rubs at one eye with his hand. Tetsurou’s gaze drops to see that Kenma’s wearing a familiar red shirt that’s far too big for him, pooling just above his knees.  _ He’s so adorable when he’s just woken up,  _ Tetsurou thinks adoringly, and then his logical brain finally catches up with him. 

_ That’s my shirt,  _ Tetsurou thinks frantically.  _ That’s my shirt. Kenma is wearing my shirt. Oh, holy shit.  _

He thinks he might just keel over on the spot. Kenma Kozume is absolutely going to be the death of him.

He’s not sure what kind of expression must be on his face right now, but it must be one of shock, because Lev nudges him. “Dude, it’s just Kenma,” he says.

“Right,” Tetsurou says, realizing he has to get himself together very quickly, judging by the look of confusion on Kenma’s face. 

“Why are you here so early, and why d’you have a water gun?” Kenma asks, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Uh, right, about that,” Tetsurou says stupidly, scratching the back of his head. How the fuck is he meant to think when Kenma’s standing right in front of him looking like  _ that _ ?!  _ Come on, Tetsurou, you’re stronger than this.  _ “Shouyou kidnapped Kiyoko.” Fuck.   
  


“Shouyou… did what?” 

“Uh, as part of a game, I think,” Tetsurou says, forcing himself to be at least somewhat coherent. “Yeah. He showed up at my bus, squirted me in the face with a water gun, told me that they kidnapped Kiyoko, and then ran off.” 

Kenma narrows his eyebrows. “And you came here because?”

“Because there was no one on my bus, and it’s not like I can go into the battlefield alone,” Tetsurou complains. “I’d be dead fuckin’ meat in 10.5 seconds. I need a strategical mastermind.” He glances back behind him again. “And Lev.”   
  


“I’m good at strategy too,” Lev complains.

Kenma sighs. “Last time we played Uno, you literally had a Draw 4 card in your hand while Sou sitting right next to you had Uno, and you put down a yellow card. Sou’s card was a yellow five. And we told you that. Multiple times.”

“I forgot,” Lev bemoans. “But that doesn’t mean I’m bad at strategy!” 

“So are you joining my team or what?” Tetsurou says casually.

Kenma glances back at him, and Tetsurou remembers all at once why he’d been freaking out: the fact that Kenma’s wearing his shirt, holy shit, where did he get that shirt, does he sleep in his shirts often,  _ why  _ does Kenma sleep in his shirts? But he pushes the thoughts away, tells himself he’ll have his crisis later. Much later. When Kenma’s not around to see it. “Yeah,” Kenma says finally. “I’ll join.” 

“I’ll join too,” Lev says importantly. 

“Great,” Tetsurou says. “Is anyone else here?”

Kenma shakes his head. “The morning birds Shouhei, Tora, and Sou all went out for breakfast, so just me and this one.” 

“That’ll do,” Tetsurou says. “C’mon. And don’t be conspicuous.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Lev complains.

“Don’t be loud. Or noticeable,” Kenma rephrases.

“I’ll try, I guess!”

Kenma heads off to change - out of Tetsurou’s shirt, thankfully, to prevent any further distractions - and they step outside. Immediately, Tetsurou’s alert goes up. Someone could be hiding in the bushes, scoping out behind a bus. “Get low,” he hisses to Kenma and Lev. “Especially you, beanpole.”

They start moving forward when Tetsurou realizes they have no idea where they’re going. He nudges Kenma. “Where d’you think they would’ve brought Kiyoko?”

“Probably somewhere near the Crowfeathers bus,” Kenma says thoughtfully. “Near to home base.”

“Should’ve known that with all those video games, this would be right up your alley,” Tetsurou says, shaking his head. “Okay. Lead the way.”

They walk slowly, Tetsurou leading the way since he’s the only one with a water gun, though about halfway through their walk Kenma finds an abandoned water gun on the ground with a little left in it. Tetsurou looks at the stain around it and says, “Must’ve been a casualty.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “Rest in peace, brave soldier.”

Tetsurou grins, giving a slight bow before he continues walking. Suddenly, Lev yelps, “Hey! I see people up ahead!” at a volume that’s audible probably to the entire festival. 

Tetsurou can’t help but let out a groan. “Lev,” he says slowly. “What did we tell you about being sneaky?”

“Sorry,” Lev says in a whisper-shout. “But there’s people up ahead! And they’re wearing bandanas and I think they’re holding guns!” 

“We could always use Lev as a shield,” Kenma says, a low murmur in Kuroo’s ear that sends shivers down his spine. His body has apparently become far too attuned to Kenma’s low voice, to Kenma’s mouth on his ear. “With his surface area, he might be able to cover both of us.”

Tetsurou can’t help but snort. “Good idea.”

“You’ve finally found us, have you,” comes a deep voice, and Tetsurou looks up, his eyebrows narrowing. 

“ _ Kei? _ ” He snorts again, louder this time. “No fuckin’ way they dragged you into this.”

“It was Tsukki’s idea,” Tadashi says, grinning. “He got bored.”

“It was not my idea,” Kei grumbles. “Today was hot and monotonous, so Tobio suggested we get out the water guns, and I just said we should kidnap someone to make it more interesting. Then Hitoka suggested it be Kiyoko.”

“I thought you guys tried for Koushi first,” Tetsurou says. 

“We got lazy and just went for the closest person,” Tobio says in a deadpan. “Which happened to be Koushi, but when that didn’t work, we just went for Kiyoko.”

Tetsurou glances over at the post Kiyoko is haphazardly tied to. She’s talking to Hitoka, a tiny smile on her face as Hitoka talks to her about something with a lot of enthusiasm. He turns back to the group. “Seems like she’s really upset about being kidnapped.” 

“Yes,” Kei says. “Therefore. You should save her.” 

“And here we have the heroes come to rescue the beautiful princess!” comes another voice, this one from behind them: a voice that is recognizably Taketora Yamamoto’s. He pauses for a second, his eyes wide. “She’s so beautiful,” he says dreamily.

“What are you doing here?” Kenma says, his voice puzzled. “You went to breakfast.”

“And we came back!” Taketora says. “Because Lev told us you guys were on an adventure.”

“I can text with one hand these days!” Lev says cheerily. “And without looking at the screen!” 

“Yet you still don’t know how to not alert the enemy of your presence,” Kenma says bitterly. 

Shouhei picks up the camera in his hands and turns it on. “I’m here to capture the dramatic rescue.”

“Great,” Tetsurou says, lifting the water gun and shooting it directly at Kei’s face. 

“Hey!” Kei says, angrily taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. He directs a squinted glare at Tetsurou. “What the hell was that for?” 

“It was a headshot,” Kenma points out. “Is this not a war?”

“Sure is!” Shouyou says, running up to shoot at Lev, who immediately starts yelling in response about how he doesn’t have a gun and therefore the entire thing is unfair. 

Kenma sighs loudly. “This game got boring all of a sudden,” he says. With a flat expression, he aims his gun to hit each person in turn - Shouyou, Tobio, Kei, Tadashi, Hitoka, and then even Taketora. Tetsurou had figured Kenma would be good at this, given the way he’s seen him taking down enemies systematically in his shooting video games, but  _ damn,  _ he can’t help but find his meticulous shooting impressive. And a little bit hot.

“I’m not even playing this game!” Taketora splutters, wiping his face off with his shirt. “You didn’t need to headshot me!” 

“Oops,” Kenma says. “Forgot.” The undertone in his voice tells Tetsurou that he definitely had not forgotten. Tetsurou’s heart swells. God, he’s so disgustingly in love with this boy, he thinks, and hates himself for it. Kenma continues, “Anyways, if we’re pretending that this is a simulation of a real life war, I’ve hit you all in vital places, meaning you’ll probably die any second now.”

“You killed your own band member?!” Taketora yelps.

“Aw, Kenma!” Shouyou says dramatically. “I’m bleeding out all over the ground! I can feel my last seconds ticking away! My life is flashing before my eyes!” 

“Dumbass,” Tobio says.

“What, Tobio? Do you want your last word to be ‘dumbass?’” Shouyou says, smacking him on the arm.

“That would be fitting of the idiot King,” Kei says with a roll of his eyes. 

Tobio’s eyes cut over to Kei, a look of actual anger in his eyes - one that Tetsurou truly hasn’t seen before. “Don’t call me that,” he says. 

Looking back and forth between the smirk on Kei’s face and the anger in Tobio’s, Tetsurou feels a smile tug at his lips. This could certainly turn into something interesting. He’s been craving a nice fight recently - might even feel nice to get into one, to be able to release his energy through a nicely placed punch into some asshole’s jaw. But he doesn’t particularly want to fight anyone on Warped at the moment, and his nights tend to be a little…  _ preoccupied,  _ to say the least. 

But before anything can break out, another stream of water - this one much stronger than the others - hits Kei square in the chest, enough to knock him back a step, before an identical stream hits Tobio. Tetsurou turns around to see Daichi and Koushi standing there, each clutching a -  _ Super Soaker _ ? Where the hell had they gotten those?

“We’ve come for revenge,” Daichi says, cocking his gun. “Give us Kiyoko or face the consequences.”

“They’re already dead,” Kenma says flatly. “Now they’re just arguing about how they should die.”

“Oh,” Koushi says, lowering his gun. “Well. That’s a little bit anticlimactic.” 

“Well, uh, give us Kiyoko then,” Daichi says. 

“Uh,” Tadashi says, “I’m pretty sure she and Hitoka went to get lunch somewhere like five minutes ago.”

“Huh,” Daichi says.

Koushi just grins. “Well, Daichi and I went out and bought these babies, so we might as well put them to good use.” He picks up his gun again, this time aiming at Tetsurou, though - and a steady stream of water hits Tetsurou right in the chest. 

“Hey, no fair!” Tetsurou splutters. “I wasn’t even fuckin’ ready!” But he picks up his very much inferior gun and aims right back at Koushi, ducking behind Lev afterwards to shield himself from any counterattacks. Sure enough, Lev gets hit with a big blast of water.

As the war picks up, everyone shooting each other with cold water, shrieks of laughter piercing the air and the hot sun beating down on them, Tetsurou looks over at his partner, Kenma, who apparently has his back in this competition, a tiny little smile on his face - and he thinks, I really am in love. It’s no less terrifying now than it was the first time.

The feeling doesn’t go away over the next few days. It only becomes stronger when Kenma comes on stage with him to perform, when Kenma’s hand brushes his during the performance, when Tetsurou drapes his body over Kenma’s to the cheers of the audience. All Tetsurou can think is:  _ Well, I am well and truly fucked. _

.

One of the best things to do at Warped is simply to wander around, Tetsurou’s found. It’s easy to forget sometimes that the reason he got into this crazy industry is because of his love for music. He loves hearing new songs, listening to new albums, and to him, live music is one of the best simple pleasures the world has to offer. 

So it’s nice to be able to wander around and listen to different bands when he’s not expected to be on stage or meeting fans. He wears sunglasses and a hat, both to protect himself from the sun and to protect himself from fans, and he drags Kenma with him, despite Kenma’s protests about how he’s trying to beat some game. 

“You can’t be serious,” Kenma says about ten seconds into 30H!3’s set. 

“This music is  _ fun _ ,” Tetsurou says, elbowing Kenma gently. “C’mon, dance with me.”

“I’d rather die.” 

_ “Tell your boyfriend if he says he’s got beef that I’m a vegetarian and I ain’t fuckin’ scared of him,”  _ pierces through the air, and Kenma gives Tetsurou another look. Tetsurou laughs. “Come on, you gotta admit that’s witty as hell. Man, I really gotta start picking up hints from these guys. I love the fluorescent look they’ve got going on.”

“You couldn’t pull it off.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I could pull off any look I wanted to!” 

Kenma just raises an eyebrow. They stay for the rest of 30H!3’s set before Kenma drags him off, this time stopping in front of Takanobu’s band. Iron Wall’s music is a little less risque, a little more of an acoustic sound to it, despite Takanobu’s appearance that causes people to assume that Iron Wall must be a metal band. They even have a reluctant Kenji playing the piano. The song that’s drifting through the air has a mildly romantic edge to it, and for a second, Tetsurou’s tempted to reach out, to put his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, hold him close, let him pretend that they are something more than they are - 

“Are you guys really Tetsurou Kuroo and Kenma Kozume?” comes a loud voice from in front of him.

Shit. A good reminder of why he can’t, a snap back to reality.

“Never heard of him,” Tetsurou says in the least convincing tone ever. Well, he might be a performer, but there’s a reason he stuck to music solely rather than musicals. 

“Ah, that’s definitely Tetsurou’s voice! You’ve always been so funny!” the girl says, a grin splitting her face. “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m such a big fan! I’ve been a fan since you were in Neko, actually, but I love Black Claw too.”

“Neko was a great band,” Kenma says, a bit mournfully. 

“Ah, and you must be Kenma!” she says. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m actually seeing the two of you together! Can I get a picture with you? You’re two of my  _ idols _ , holy shit!” 

Tetsurou’s not sure he’s qualified to be anyone’s  _ idol.  _ He’s a twenty-six-year-old professional fuck up, redeemed in the eyes of a few by his fame and popularity. Still, he poses for a picture with her, even taking off his sunglasses for the photo, Kenma on her other side. He knows that’s going to take off on the internet, that people will find a way to crop out the girl so it’s just him and Kenma, their arms around each other. He knows that people will freak out that they’re hanging out together at Warped alone.

He grabs Kenma’s hand, but then trails his hand up to Kenma’s wrist instead and gives it a tug. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get some food.”

.

“ _ It’s during a Warped performance, when Kenma comes on stage with Tetsurou to perform, that Tetsurou realizes he’s really attracted to the other guy _ .”

“What the fuck is that?” Tetsurou asks sleepily, rolling over onto his side to face Kenma.

“ _ After the show, Tetsurou realizes he can’t hold out anymore. He grabs Kenma’s hand, forcefully yanking Kenma towards him _ \- hm. That might be hot, actually. Maybe you should do that.”

“What, and have the entirety of Warped speculating about us? No thanks. Also, you didn’t answer my question - the fuck is that?”

“ _ His lips messily slide against Kenma’s. He grips Kenma’s hair to pull Kenma’s face flush with his, sliding his tongue into Kenma’s mouth, their tongues battling for dominance _ .  _ He pulls Kenma with him further backstage, pulling off his shirt and then Kenma’s, pressing their sweaty chests together  _ \- ew. Gross.”

“You’re reading fanfiction.”

“Obviously.”

“Why?!”

“It’s entertaining to see what their ideas of us are like,” Kenma says. “This one is mostly sex, but some of them have really intricate storylines. There’s an arranged marriage story, oh, and a couple where we’re in high school.” 

“High school, huh?” Tetsurou muses. “I was kind of an asshole in high school.”

“Too bad you never outgrew it.”

“Shut up,” Tetsurou says, his tone far too fond -  _ dial it back, Tetsurou.  _ “Tell me more about what you were like in high school.”

“Boring,” Kenma says with a shrug. “Pretty shy. I didn’t talk to many people, to be honest.”

“But you and Taketora were friends back then, right?” 

Kenma makes a face, which Tetsurou finds oddly adorable. “I guess you could call us friends. Mostly we argued. I was closer to Shouhei back then. Still am, probably. Tora’s just… too much. But we’re friends, I guess, now.”

“I was  _ too much _ back in high school, too,” Tetsurou admits. “D’you think we would’ve been friends if we’d met in high school?”

“Who knows,” Kenma says, and then, a little softer, “But I’d like to think we would’ve.”

_ Fuck.  _ Shit. Fuck. Tetsurou’s heart squeezes, jumps, wants to bounce out of his chest. Kenma’s words are too fond, too sweet, too much more than he deserves. He can’t help but lean back over to cup Kenma’s face, pressing his lips back to Kenma’s with a little more gentleness than usual. 

God, he’s stupidly in love. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

.

The rest of the days pass relatively without incident. Mostly just the usual Warped: prank wars, mostly Tetsurou attempting to get Crowfeathers back by enlisting Kenma and even occasionally members of other bands, like Iron Wall, to assist in his revenge endeavors. (Kenji seems more than willing to participate, despite his standoffish attitude.) Warped is fun - tiring at times, but it’s nice to be able to be around people that he (generally) likes, having fun and goofing off. So all goes well until the last day.

“You really like him,” Kei observes while they’re at a half-assed party after the concerts end one night where some band has hauled out alcohol and a speaker and everyone’s dancing. Kenma’s standing at the drinks table talking to Shouyou, and well, it’s not Tetsurou’s fault if his gaze lingers on him for a little longer than usual, because his hair is falling out of his ponytail, and he’s smiling, and his smile is so beautiful and tiny and his cheeks are pink and he - 

Tetsurou’s head whips around. “Who?” he says, narrowing his eyebrows. “Shorty? ‘Cause if so, I’ve got some news for you -”

“No,” Kei says, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “Not that single-celled organism. Kenma, obviously.”

“Of course I like him,” Tetsurou replies. “He’s my best friend. One of my best friends, whatever.”

“Not like that,” Kei says, “and you know it. Don’t be deliberately obtuse.”

Tetsurou’s fingers clench on the cup he’s holding. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“I’m just saying,” Kei says, and his voice loses its normal edge for just a second as he says, “to be careful. Just make sure the wrong person doesn’t find out. I’ve seen for myself how it goes if you aren’t careful. Just how fast even the glory boys can fall from grace.” He barks out a bitter laugh. “For Kenma’s sake, keep it under control.”

For Kenma’s sake.

_ For Kenma’s sake. _

God, what wouldn’t he do for Kenma’s sake? 

The words echo in his head  _ \- fall from grace.  _ He knows all too well what happens when one falls from grace, when the love runs out and there’s nothing left but bitterness and a grudging tolerance that quickly crumbles into outright hatred. He doesn’t want to hate Kenma. He won’t let himself. 

“Yeah,” Tetsurou manages. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it under control.” 

He manages to avoid Kenma for the rest of the party, because he can’t risk it: not with all these people around. Kenma tries to find him, though: it’s obvious by the way his eyes search through the crowd, seemingly disappointed when they don’t land on their target, and the way he keeps wandering around, from group to group. Finally, Tetsurou gets tired and beckons him away from the party.

They walk for a little bit, underneath the night sky, until Kenma finally says, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tetsurou replies, because explaining would mean confessing, and confessing would mean essentially what Kei had just warned him was a bad idea. “Just needed out for a bit.” 

“You were avoiding me,” Kenma says. 

Tetsurou sighs. No use denying it. Kenma’s always been far too observant. “I… have a lot going on right now. I’m sorry. I was just kind of avoiding everyone. But I realized that I didn’t want to avoid you, so. Here we are.”

Kenma glances over at him, then slowly reaches out, slipping his hand into Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou freezes for a second, Kei’s words flashing through his head again - but he looks around, sees there’s no one to be found. It’s dead silent. So he gives Kenma’s hand a gentle squeeze and keeps walking. 

“I can’t believe it’s the end of Warped already,” Tetsurou says mournfully. “Whose shoes am I going to put toothpaste in now?”

“You put toothpaste in someone’s shoes?”

“Only after they put a live garter snake in our bus.”

“What? ...I’m glad I never got involved in this stupid war.”

“You did, though,” Tetsurou protests, rubbing circles into the back of Kenma’s hand. “You sided with me, right?” 

“If I did, it’s a mistake I wouldn’t make again.”

“Hey! Siding with me is the best decision you could ever make!” 

Kenma just rolls his eyes. “I don’t want snakes on our bus. We already have Lev and Sou yammering like puppies and Taketora - I don’t know. What’s a loud animal without a single brain cell?”

“And you have a cat,” Tetsurou says, glancing over at him.

“What cat?”

“You, obviously.”

“How am I a cat?”

“Let’s see,” Tetsurou says. “Sleeps during the day, awake at night. Skittish. Wants affection on their own terms only. Sits in weird places and in weird positions. Names their band Catfight - “

“To be fair, Tora came up with that name.”

“I notice how you’re no longer denying it.”

“I’m not a cat,” Kenma complains.

“A kitten, then.” 

“That’s even worse.”

“My kitten.” 

“ _ Kuro _ ,” Kenma groans, but his cheeks are tinged with pink, and Tetsurou can’t help but think that it might be a good thing to call Kenma the next time he gets him into bed.  _ Shit,  _ dangerous thoughts. Way too dangerous. “It’s been an interesting tour, though. That’s for sure.”

“I don’t want it to be over.”

“It’s not like this is the end,” Kenma says. “Just one tour.”

“I know,” Tetsurou says, but the sinking feeling in his chest feels like he doesn’t really know. He kisses Kenma like it’s the last time. Something in his head tells him that things are coming to an end, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. 

He feels like he’s not ready to move on just yet.

He falls asleep that night, the last night of Warped, with Kenma in the bed beside him. Thinking about Kei’s words, his childhood nightmares resurface - the sound of screaming, of glass breaking. Tetsurou sits crouched under the table, shaking, sobbing his eyes out, a scared little child. But then, someone shakes his arm. “Kuro.” 

The yelling increases in volume. Tetsurou shudders. It’ll never stop - never stop - 

The voice again, soft and sweet. “Kuro. It’s okay.”

Finally, Tetsurou resurfaces from the dream, realizing that he’s in a cheap hotel bed and Kenma is wrapped around him. He clings onto Kenma and cries. 

Kenma holds him and lets him cry. It takes him a minute to realize that Kenma’s crying too. 

(They don’t talk about it in the morning.)

.

Just another week after Warped ends, Catfight releases their third album. 

As Tetsurou listens, he can’t help but think that this album sounds different from the first two. The first two were great, of course, but they held an undertone of bitterness, sadness, and anger to them, even a little bit of fear, that’s noticeably absent from this new album. It sounds lighter. There are some songs that even sound a little upbeat - like love songs, almost, which is interesting coming from Kenma. It’s nice, though, to think that Kenma is happier now. That he could have played a part in that happiness somehow. 

The listeners seem to like it too. Catfight’s sales skyrocket, and the lead single charts on the pop charts. People are all over the internet, posting about how much they love Catfight and how attractive Kenma is and how beautiful his voice is. Tetsurou’s extremely happy about it, but at the same time, he’s struck with the urge to put it into the world that he was Catfight’s first fan and remains Kenma’s biggest fan - to put it lightly.

Koutarou calls him, wholeheartedly delighted with this latest turn of events. “We’re all  _ famous _ !” he exclaims. “I’m gettin’ requests to collaborate with all the big names - Kim Kardashian and shit - and now Kenma’s all over the radio too! My bands are takin’ off! And of course, Bluecastle too, and POWERHOUSE’s latest single -” 

“So you’re saying everyone’s successful but me, huh?”

“No, course not! You’re doin’ great too, man! All of us are killin’ it these days! I’m so happy for us!” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, asshole. But I’m happy for Kenma too. You know that.”

“Ha, course you are! He’s like, your Keiji!” 

“My Keiji?” 

“You know, your closest friend or whatever!” 

Tetsurou’s never been able to completely comprehend the relationship between Keiji and Koutarou. He knows for a fact that they aren’t  _ involved _ on the level that he is with Kenma, that Koutarou will swear down to the depths of his soul that despite his flirting with anything that moves, he’s not actually interested in fucking guys. But he can’t tell Koutarou that Kenma’s a little different, so he just says, “Yeah, something like that. Hey, how’s Keiji doing, anyways? And the rest of the band.”

“He’s doin’ good! We’re about to start recording our next album, and I think it’s our best yet. So does Keiji. It feels like it fits together really well! I can’t wait for people to hear it!”

“Can’t wait to hear it either, man.”

Soon after, he gets put on tour with Kenma again - well, with Catfight, Bluecastle, and POWERHOUSE, which Tetsurou is sure will be an explosive combination. He goes looking for Kenma first at their first stop.

“There he is,” he says dramatically. “The one, the only, the famous - Kenma Kozume, who apparently no one can shut up about these days! How does it feel to have millions of admirers worldwide?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Kenma says.

“It is too. I haven’t been able to open a single fuckin’ music website without seeing your face front and center.”

“It’s weird,” Kenma admits. “The second I write something remotely happy with a little bit of a pop vibe to it everyone’s all over it. I guess that’s the way the industry goes. And to be honest, I’m not sure about all of this attention. It gets a little old after a while.”

“It’s just success,” Tetsurou says. “Which is what you deserve, you know. You’ve worked hard.”

“I don’t know if this is the kind of success I want.”

Tetsurou can’t help but feel a little annoyed at that. He was the one who’d gotten Kenma signed, after all, the one that had helped promote them, the one that had invited Kenma to perform with him, just to boost him, and now that Kenma has success, the kind of success people dream of, singing the stuff he wants to sing, he doesn’t want it anymore? But he decides it’s best not to comment. He doesn’t really want to argue with Kenma, after all. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Tooru’s been waiting for you.” 

“Oh, lovely. Just the person I’ve been waiting to see.”

But as they start to walk towards the other buses, the sound of raised voices starts to echo in the distance. Tetsurou glances over at Kenma nervously, only to see Kenma has a similar look of concern on his face. As they get closer, the voices become more clear - one of them distinctively that of Tooru Oikawa. 

“I didn’t ask for your critique of my music videos!” 

“I was not trying to critique your music videos. I simply said that they may be better if they included a bit more action.”

“Is that not a critique?!” 

“I had not intended it to be.”

“You’re calling my music videos boring! God, Ushiwaka, can you not be around me for ten minutes without insulting me somehow? It’s getting old really quickly.”

Tetsurou grins. Ah, yes, the explosion he’s been waiting for - putting Tooru in the vicinity of Wakatoshi Ushijima, who he apparently despises for some stupid reason. Wakatoshi gives him a wide-eyed look of confusion as he approaches, while Tooru smiles through gritted teeth.

“Ah, Tetsu! How nice of you to finally show up,” Tooru says. “And Pudding Head, welcome back! I was just responding to Wakatoshi’s  _ critiques  _ of my music videos. Can you believe the nerve of this guy?”

“They weren’t critiques,” Wakatoshi protests.

“He really wasn’t critiquing,” Kenma says. “That’s just how Wakatoshi tries to make conversation.”

“He’s socially awkward,” Tetsurou says, and Kenma elbows him. 

“I find your music videos enjoyable, actually,” Wakatoshi says. “That is what I had intended to convey. But unfortunately, my intentions did not turn into reality.”

“Y-you do?” Tooru looks startled. He looks like he’s about to say something, but suddenly his eyes land on something in the distance and his gaze hardens again. “Well, of course my music videos are great. They’re my concepts, y’know!” 

Tetsurou glances back over his shoulder to see Hajime Iwaizumi leaning against Bluecastle’s bus, his arms crossed and an intense look on his face. Satori from Powerhouse is beside him, talking with big hands about something, but based on Hajime’s gaze, it seems like Hajime’s head isn’t completely in the conversation. Kenma sighs. “Things haven’t gotten any better?”

“Worse,” Tooru says gloomily. “We argued this afternoon about how our stage show should look like for the next tour. He wants it to be more retro, I want it to be more modern. I… I mean, what do you even do in this situation? He’s my best friend, but I don’t want to sacrifice my artistic integrity.”

“Just make the decision,” Wakatoshi says. “You’re the frontman.”

“Is that how things work in your band, stupid asshole Wakatoshi?!”

“No,” Eita, who’d apparently been hanging out behind Wakatoshi, chimes in. “But we let him think it’s how it works.” 

Tetsurou chuckles at that one, but he doesn’t like the feeling of dread in his stomach. It’s alarming that simply being in a band together can introduce so much tension into the friendship of two people that clearly care about each other. Despite his love of chaos and fighting, he’s not fond of the idea of long-time friendships falling apart, so he nudges Kenma. “I’m gonna go talk to Hajime,” he says. “You deal with Tooru.”

Kenma stares at him. “You expect me to be able to handle him when he’s around Wakatoshi?”

“You have more power than you think.” 

“I do not,” Kenma gripes, but he nods anyways.

“Hello, Tetsurou,” Hajime says once he walks up, and Satori gives him a welcoming nod.

“What’s going on over here?”

“‘M tryin’ to get Hajime to get a matching tattoo with me,” he says. “The dude has tattoos everywhere, but won’t get one with his good old buddy Satori Tendou!” 

“I don’t get matching tattoos with anyone,” Hajime says.

“You’re tellin’ me that you and Tooru don’t have matchin’ tattoos?!”

“I doubt we’d be able to agree on what fuckin’ tattoo to get,” Hajime gripes.  _ There it is _ . Not even a minute and Hajime had brought it up. Fuck.

“Something wrong with you and Tooru?” Tetsurou asks. 

“Don’t act like Tooru didn’t tell you,” Hajime says. “He’s incapable of keeping anything secret. Don’t think he’d be able to keep it in for more than a second.” 

Tetsurou sighs. “You’re really gonna lose your friendship over this band?”

“I don’t want to,” Hajime says with a frown. “Of course I don’t want to. But his ideas are fucking ridiculous and would humiliate me, and he thinks my ideas are old-fashioned and boring, so I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do. Makki and Mattsun have tried mediating, but their compromises are dumb as hell.”

“I could mediate!” Satori volunteers.

“ _ Hell  _ no. Anyways, I get why he’s avoiding anything too old-fashioned, but god, his ideas are awful. He wanted to me to wear a bright pink muscle shirt on stage once. I’d rather die. And I told him this, but he accused me of not wanting the band to succeed, and I just - ugh.” 

“There’s literally no way you could compromise?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. What’s a mix of old-fashioned and modern? What’s a musical style in between electro pop and rock? And would we both be happy if we compromised, really?”

“I… I don’t know,” Tetsurou says lamely. He’s suddenly happy that his band members are relatively cool with whatever, all of them sharing a common goal, which is just to make people happy. “But what are you going to do?”

“Just deal, I guess.” Hajime shrugs. “Try to make Tooru happy. I guess I have no other fuckin’ choice. At least that way one of us will be happy.”

“Doesn’t seem fair,” Satori interjects. 

“Life isn’t shit, Satori. You learn that real quick.”

The heaviness in Tetsurou’s chest sets in even harder when he returns to Kenma, Tooru, Eita, and Wakatoshi, who Kenma has somehow managed to get to discuss a civil topic - which album of Green Day’s is the best or something. He’s a miracle worker, Tetsurou thinks with no small degree of admiration.

“American Idiot,” Tooru says. “No question.”

“Only a true American idiot would say that,” Eita says.

“...I admit that I haven’t listened to much of them.”

“No  _ way _ ,” Tooru says. “Wakatoshi Ushijima, there is no way that you have a band in this day and age and haven’t heard much of fucking Green Day. Okay, you’re coming with me right this instance!” He grabs ahold of Wakatoshi’s hand and drags him off, towards the Bluecastle bus. Eita shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turning up. 

“Those two are a mess,” Eita says.

“You’re telling me,” Tetsurou says. “I’m kind of terrified they’re going to kill each other in there.”

“No,” Kenma says. “If anything, they’ll probably just fuck.”

“How do you know that?!” 

“Tooru thinks Wakatoshi is hot,” Kenma says. “He called me to rant about other things and let that lovely little detail slip. I never wanted to know that, but there you have it.”

“Well, I mean,” Eita says, “objectively, he is. Unfortunately, seeing his meticulous and boring morning routine has killed any chance of my being attracted to him.”

“Morning routine?” Tetsurou says. “Well, god, now I have to hear about this.” 

Eita makes a face. “Wakes up. Goes straight to the bathroom. Takes a disgusting shit. Washes his face for a good five minutes. Tweezes his eyebrows. Moisturizes. Brushes each piece of hair into place. Cleans his ears and his nose. Does vocal warmups. Lifts some weights. Makes one piece of toast and one boiled egg. Eats it. Rinse and repeat, every single fucking morning.”

“You’re kidding,” Tetsurou says, cackling loudly. “Oh, holy fucking shit. How does he survive with a bunch of sweaty dudes on the road? Shit, how does he survive with Satori, of all people?”

“Wish I knew,” Eita says. “Kenjirou’s pretty meticulous as well, but Tsutomu’s a walking disaster. Sometimes I’m scared Wakatoshi might literally explode.”

“He might,” Kenma says softly.

They don’t talk about Tetsurou’s conversation with Hajime until later that night. They’re traveling between cities that night, so Kenma manages to sneak onto the Black Claw bus. Daichi and Koushi are on the couch watching some movie with Koushi’s head on Daichi’s shoulder, Kiyoko curled up beside them on her laptop, so Tetsurou just waves at them before he pulls Kenma back to his bunk. None of them seem all that surprised to see Kenma on their bus for the night, though Koushi says, “Keep in mind we’re still on the bus, Tetsurou,” in a very faux-sweet voice. 

“I know where you sleep at night,” Tetsurou threatens. 

“It’s too late now!” Koushi replies cheerfully. “I already know you’re a softie.”   
  


He lays down beside Kenma in his tiny bunk. He’s sure his band must have ideas about what they’re doing, but to be fair, they must have formed  _ ideas  _ over the past couple of years - having seen Kenma and Tetsurou conspicuously disappear from various social events, the casual physical contact they enjoy, probably even the look in Tetsurou’s eyes when he’s looking at Kenma. He’s sure he should be more worried, but despite it all, he trusts his band members. None of his embarrassing secrets have been leaked just yet, after all.

“How’d your talk with Hajime go?” 

“Not great,” Tetsurou admits. “He doesn’t see any way they can compromise and thinks he’s just going to do whatever will make Tooru happy, but I don’t see that working out as a long term solution.”

“No,” Kenma says. “It’ll come back to bite him in the ass eventually.”

Tetsurou sighs, silent for a moment before finally saying, “I hate conflict.” Kenma doesn’t speak, probably waiting for him to continue, and Tetsurou says, “Not stupid conflicts, like Tooru and Wakatoshi’s weird ass rivalry, or the conflicts you and Lev are always having, but real conflicts. Like Tooru and Hajime. They… remind me of my parents,” he admits, quietly.

“Your parents?” Kenma says, prompting Tetsurou to continue.

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “They got divorced when I was a kid, but it was bad for a while. They’d fight for hours on end. They’d yell - the lowest brow insults you can imagine - stuff a kid should never hear. Sometimes they’d throw stuff.” He pauses, takes a second before he says, “Sometimes the stuff they’d throw would hit the other, and I’d walk downstairs to see blood on the floor of the kitchen. The stench was so strong. I’d run to the bathroom to puke.”

“Jesus,” Kenma mumbles, tucking his head into the crook between Tetsurou’s head and shoulder. Tetsurou feels a swell of affection all over again. 

“It’s better now that they’re divorced,” Tetsurou says. “But I rarely ever saw my dad after I moved in with him; he was always working. I’d mostly hang out with my grandparents. Which was how I got interested in music in the first place. My grandpa was super cool, a fan of classic rock.”

“Explains why you’re so much like an old man,” Kenma says.

“Shut it.”

“Also explains why you’re so worried about the Hajime and Tooru situation. But sometimes life goes like that. Sometimes you start to resent the people you used to love. And before you know it, you’ve let things simmer too long, and it all goes to shit. It doesn’t mean - they won’t turn into your parents.”

“So cynical,” Tetsurou says, glancing down at Kenma, Kenma’s head still snuggled up to him. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Tell me about your family.”

“My family is normal,” Kenma says. “Mom, dad, me. My mom’s fairly outgoing. I guess I didn’t pick up that gene from her. And my dad is nerdy. An accountant, spends all his time at home working on models and stuff. I think they were surprised when I said I was joining a band.”

“Well, given your personality, that kind of makes sense.”

“Think they expected me to stay at home forever and play video games. And to be honest, had I not run into you all those years ago, I might have. It would’ve been a fine existence.”

“A boring one.”

“Sometimes I wish my life was a little more boring.”

“Your life is amazing,” Tetsurou proclaims, “because it has me in it, and I make everything amazing.”

Kenma pauses for a second. “Sometimes,” he says quietly, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear, “sometimes I wonder if my parents are disappointed in me.”

“What do you mean?” Tetsurou says. “You’re a successful musician, you’ve stayed out of trouble, you’re a genuinely  _ good  _ person -”

“They both have normal, steady jobs,” Kenma says. “Accountant and businesswoman. My mom’s such a social person. She probably wanted someone more like her. Not a socially anxious musician without a sense of direction in life.”   
  


“But I mean, doing music is a sense of direction in life, isn’t it?”

“I can’t stay young forever,” Kenma says. “People like bands when they’re young and good-looking and can dance around on stage. But when you get old, you have to have something to fall back on.”

“But… Green Day, U2, The Strokes…”

“They’re exceptions, Kuro, not the rule. And I don’t even think I have the stamina to do this forever.”

Tetsurou stays quiet for a second, unsure about how to process this. He really doesn’t like the idea of Kenma leaving the music scene for good, but he just hopes that it won’t be any day soon. Instead, he says, “Don’t know if I ever got the chance to tell you, but I love the new album.”

“Thanks.”

“It sounds a lot happier, to be honest.”

“Yeah, well,” Kenma says, “I feel happier these days, I guess.”

“Hm? I’m glad to hear that.”

There’s a moment of silence. Kenma’s probably thinking, Tetsurou imagines. “I wasn’t in a great place for a while,” Kenma admits. “My way of thinking was pretty fucked up - back in high school, and even around the time I met you. But making music for these years got me back on my feet. So, uh… thank you, Kuro. Thank you for getting me into the music scene.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Tetsurou says, kissing him softly on the forehead, tightening his arm around Kenma’s back. There’s a waver in his voice and tears prickling at his eyes, though. God, he loves Kenma. And God, he can’t tell him.

There’s a flicker of the lights all of a sudden. “You both have clothes on?” comes Daichi’s voice.

Tetsurou rolls his eyes. “If I was gonna fuck, it wouldn’t be where you all could hear me. I already have enough of an audience,” he yells back. “We’re just talking.”

“Well, if you could quiet down now, the rest of us are about to go to bed,” Kiyoko says.

“Fine, mom. Kenma and I will stop gossiping for the rest of our sleepover.”

“Sounds perverted,” Koushi says.

Tetsurou falls asleep that night with Kenma right next to him, and he sleeps better than he has in weeks. He doesn’t let himself think too hard about it, but when he does, the nagging sensation that he’s become too reliant on an uncertainty resurfaces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading yet again, I love reading your comments! This chapter is just a bunch of hopelessly pining Kuroo, but don't worry, things will certainly pick up next chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy! Please leave your thoughts in the comments :)


	10. One Thing I Could Never Doubt

There's only one thing I could never doubt  
It's in my arms right now  
But you do what you gotta do  
Don't worry about what they say about you  
Is it true? Is it true?  
You do what you gotta do  
Don't worry what they say about, us

\- _Fold Your Hands Child,_ Cobra Starship

There’s a loud banging on their bus door the next morning. Kenma groans and pokes Tetsurou in the side, a clear message that he’s not going to be the one to deal with it, and none of the other three members of Tetsurou’s band seem to be clamoring out of bed to let whichever asshole it is in either. With a curse under his breath, Tetsurou gets out of his bunk and throws open the door, giving the person on the other side a glare. “What?”  
  


“Damn, Tetsurou,” Hajime says. “Your hair looks like shit in the morning.”

“I know.”

“I thought you styled it that way. Is it just bedhead?”

“Can you just tell me why the fuck you’re banging on our door at seven in the morning already?”

Hajime sighs. “It’s Tooru,” he says. “He, uh, he didn’t come back to our bus last night, so as soon as we arrived I decided to go to the other buses and ask around to make sure he’s okay. Maybe it’s dumb of me to care with all the shit between us these days, but… I’m worried.”

“Haven’t seen him,” Tetsurou says with a shake of his head. “Last time I saw him he was off with Wakatoshi. You checked the Powerhouse bus yet?”

“Wakatoshi?” Hajime quirks an eyebrow, a tiny smile quirking at his lips. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Also, he told Kenma he thinks Wakatoshi is hot, so who knows what they got up to.”

“I would say I’d hope he doesn’t fuck on the bus,” Hajime says, “but I’m almost 90% sure he did, that fucking idiot. God.” He shakes his head, laughing. “At least it wasn’t our bus this time, y’know?”

Tetsurou’s not sure what exactly possesses him, but the next idiotic thing out of his mouth is, “So Tooru’s gay?”

“Yeah,” Hajime says, his smile vanishing quickly and a little bit of defensiveness in the sudden downward tilt of his mouth. He raises his head at Tetsurou. “What’s it to you?”

“Was just curious. And it doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course not,” Hajime says. “He’s my best friend regardless of who he fucks. Though the label has warned him multiple times to keep it on the downlow, and yet that idiot continually ignores them, so that part pisses me off. But beyond that, if he can find someone he cares about that treats him right, then I’m happy for him.”

“I see,” Tetsurou says. “Sorry for asking.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Hajime says, although his tone is still a bit defensive. Tetsurou wonders how much homophobia Hajime’s had to put up with, and winces at the thought. “Kenma’s here, though? I stopped by Catfight’s bus first, thinking he might have gone to see Kenma, but they said they also didn’t know where Kenma’d ended up and were a little worried.”

“Ah,” Tetsurou says uncomfortably. “Yeah, Kenma’s here.”

“Right.” There’s a gleam of recognition in Hajime’s eyes that Tetsurou’s not particularly comfortable with. “Well - “

“We were playing cards last night, and then he crashed here after.”

“Of course,” Hajime says gruffly. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

The door closes, and Tetsurou lets out a loud, low groan. “I’m going back to bed,” he grumbles to himself.

.

Days pass quickly on tour, and so do the nights - finding Kenma when he can at night, huddling up by himself other nights or talking to his band members. He even manages to set up a bonding night for his band where they watch a Disney movie. Everyone laughs at him for crying at the end of it. Still, Tetsurou thinks, there’s something particularly lovely in the idea of finding true love, something that Tetsurou might never find for himself. After all, the strongest emotion he’s ever felt is for a _guy_ \- a guy who he can’t be with, can’t even legally marry - so he’s fairly sure it’s out of the realm of possibilities for him. And then, near the end of the tour, there’s a hotel night. At Tetsurou’s urging, everyone piles into one of the bigger rooms for some last minute fun.

“Spin the Bottle?” Tetsurou says, raising an eyebrow at the bottle on the floor. “There’s like, one girl on this entire tour, and she’s in my fucking band. That’s a terrible idea.”  
  


“I wouldn’t mind kissing a nice guy or two,” Tooru says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m vetoing it,” Tetsurou says. The idea of having to kiss someone other than Kenma - the idea of Kenma having to kiss someone other than him, and Tetsurou witness it - makes him sick to his stomach. “Get more creative.”

“Musical chairs?” Tsutomu says.

Kenjirou ignores him. “We could just play beer pong,” he says. “Do a tournament or something.”

“I kick ass at beer pong,” Tetsurou says importantly. “Bring it on.”

“Yeah, well, so do I,” Tooru says. “Hajime and I make up the best damned beer pong duo in the entire world.” Hajime looks a little surprised at Tooru’s voicing of this sentiment, but smiles nonetheless, which Tetsurou takes as a sign of progress.

“I do not know how to play this game,” Wakatoshi chimes in. “Regardless, I intend to win.”

Everyone starts looking around to partner up. Tetsurou glances over at his band to find that Koushi and Daichi have partnered up already, and Kiyoko’s already claimed Tsutomu from Powerhouse. When Tetsurou gives her a look of betrayal, she says, “Kinda figured you were going to partner up with Kenma. Sorry.”

Tetsurou makes a mental note to do a band bonding night without Kenma so that his band members will stop with these heartbreaking betrayals. He turns to Kenma. “Guess it’s you and me, then,” he says, noting that Lev and Sou and Tora and Fukunaga had partnered up already.

“I’m your second choice?”

“Ha, don’t say it like that! You know you’re my first choice always.”

Tooru feigns a gagging noise, and Tetsurou shoots a glare over at him, aware that he’s probably trying to imply something unseemly between the two. At least it’s Tooru, so no one will take him all that seriously. Well, besides Issei and Takahiro - who are cackling behind their hands like a pair of idiots. 

Of course Issei and Takahiro make up a pair. Satori has his arm hooked around Wakatoshi’s neck, whispering something in his ear with a terrifying grin on his face, and Kenjirou and Eita keep looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes - like they’re pretending they hadn’t wanted to be paired together when they really had, Tetsurou thinks. He glances around, calculating who his biggest threats will be. Kiyoko’s not bad, from what he’s seen, but he can’t imagine Tsutomu to be too well-versed in beer pong. Wakatoshi doesn’t even know how to play the fucking game. Tooru talks big, so he might be a threat, and Daichi is awfully calculating when he wants to be. He doesn’t know enough about the Eita-Kenjirou team, but they’re giving off awfully threatening vibes. Same for Issei and Takahiro, who seem like buffoons but have the potential to be lethal. Lev and Sou are laughable. Tora will go too all-out, which means…

“We’re keeping an eye out for Daichi-Koushi, Issei-Takahiro, and Eita-Kenjirou,” Kenma mumbles, literally finishing Tetsurou’s thoughts. 

He’s too perfect, Tetsurou thinks dreamily, but refuses to let himself get too carried away. “Yep,” Tetsurou confirms. “You have pretty good aim, I’d wager.”

“Above average.” Kenma shrugs.

They’re assigned to play against Lev and Sou first, which is, just as Tetsurou had predicted, a disaster. Sou just chucks the balls as hard as he can and Lev throws them absurdly high. They don’t even try adding strategy in: instead, it turns more into a competition between the two of them about who can throw the most ridiculously. Kenma and Tetsurou don’t even have to drink once during that round, while Lev and Sou end up fairly fucking drunk just from the one game.

“I don’t feel anythin’,” Lev slurs, tossing his arm around Sou’s neck. “You, Sou? You good?”

“I’m good,” Sou says. “I’m soooo good! Let’s go again!” 

“I think not,” Kenma says. “Go drink some water.”

They watch as Wakatoshi and Satori get destroyed by Eita and Kenjirou. Probably because Wakatoshi genuinely has never played the game before, and Satori spends most of the game explaining to Wakatoshi that he shouldn’t just hurl the ball at their opponents. Wakatoshi even hits Kenma, who’s just standing on the side, square in the forehead once with a ball. Kenma turns to Tetsurou with a shocked expression on his face. “It felt like I’d been shot,” he says. “I’m glad I don’t play actual sports against him.”

The match between Tooru-Hajime and Takahiro-Issei is actually a close one, the first close one of the ‘tournament’. Both teams are fairly good, or at least work well together. However, the problem comes when they’re near the end of the round, because Tooru gets drunk incredibly quickly and loses all sense of aim.

“God, you’re kidding,” Hajime says. “Shit. Forgot you were such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

“Hajiiiii,” Tooru says. “I’m sleepy. I don’t wanna play anymore.”

“Fuck,” Hajime curses under his breath.

Tetsurou huffs out a laugh and looks over at Kenma, observing the tiny smile on his face. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” 

“I had a feeling,” Kenma says with a shrug. “Remembered how much of a lightweight he is. If he was up against a halfway decent team, he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“You’re cunning. I like it.”

Takahiro and Issei are cackling as Hajime curses under his breath and hurls Tooru off to go sit down somewhere. Tetsurou raises an eyebrow as he sees Wakatoshi make a beeline for Tooru, bringing him a glass of water and saying something to him in a low voice - though it doesn’t seem to be an insult this time, judging by the way Tooru gives him what could almost be a smile and Hajime doesn’t seem to be bothered. Kenma whispers, “I guess that’s progress too.”

It’s Taketora-Shouhei against Kiyoko-Tsutomu next. Just as Tetsurou had figured, Taketora goes way too hard - even knocking over some of the cups, which just makes Shouhei shake his head in chagrin. They’re basically disqualified by the end of the round. Beside him, Kenma huffs out a quiet laugh. Tetsurou feels his heart give a squeeze. Next, Daichi-Koushi are assigned to play against Kiyoko-Tsutomu, taking on the winners of the last round. Tsutomu’s throws are still too amateur to take on quasi-professionals like Daichi, who takes the game far too seriously, and Koushi seem to be. Kiyoko’s fairly decent, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered about being eliminated, even by her old teammates. She follows Tsutomu to get some more drinks.

Then, he and Kenma go up against Eita and Kenjirou.

“Don’t miss,” Kenjirou says before Eita’s about to throw. 

Eita narrows his eyebrows at Kenjirou. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Great,” Kenjirou says. Eita throws and misses, probably due to the pressure that Kenjirou had put on him, and Kenjirou shoots him a glare. “Thought you said you weren’t gonna miss.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Eita says, “if you hadn’t interrupted me and distracted me.”

“Oh, what? I have the capability to distract the great Eita Semi now?”

“I never said I was the great anything. Anyways, I’d like to see you do better.”

Tetsurou elbows Kenma, who seems to be thinking much of the same thing - they’re not going to have to do any work at all to bring these two down. In fact, what’s probably going to bring them down is their internal conflict and the pressure they’re putting on themselves. Good thing he and Kenma don’t have those kind of problems. 

_He and Kenma._

Bad train of thought, he scolds himself. 

But the two of them take down Eita and Kenjirou easily, because they spend every spare second arguing about who is worse and who’s bringing down the team and how a team can’t have two weak links. Kenma just rolls his eyes as he lifts his arm to throw the last ball, easily sinking it into the cup. Eita and Kenjirou gape at the cup, and then at each other.

“Gonna have to work together better than that if you want to beat Kenma and I,” Tetsurou brags, aiming his shiny, full of teeth smirk at them. “Beer pong is a team sport, y’know!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenjirou says, clearly much drunker than before as he rests his head against Eita’s shoulder. Eita lifts an eyebrow as he looks down at Kenjirou, but there’s a tiny smile tugging at his lips. 

This means, though, that Kenma and Tetsurou are put into the final round - which ends up being against Takahiro and Issei, because as good a fight as Daichi and Koushi put up, they can’t take out the two masterminds. Takahiro and Issei approach the table with matching grins.

“Can we give up?” Kenma mumbles.

“No,” Tetsurou says, although he’s pretty damn scared himself. 

Despite Kenma’s impeccable aim and Tetsurou’s attempts at being impeccable, Takahiro and Issei are somehow still better. They hit almost every single shot, doing some weird complex high five every time they score. Although Tetsurou likes to think that his synchronization with Kenma is fairly good, they can’t compete with Takahiro and Issei’s - and so they go down, gulping down beer after disgusting beer, Kenma’s nose wrinkling up at the taste. God, he’s adorable. And god, Tetsurou’s getting to the point of being pretty damn drunk.

“Good game,” Takahiro says, flashing them a grin. “You were almost competition.”

“We tried,” Tetsurou says, or at least he thinks that’s what he says, but it could’ve been anything that even remotely sounds like it. “Kenma? Kenma! Where’d Kenma go?”

“M right here,” Kenma says, leaning into him, and Tetsurou grins, wrapping his arms around Kenma, keeping Kenma tight in his grasp. Man, he doesn’t want to let go. Maybe he doesn’t have to! Maybe he can keep him here forever! Maybe Kenma can just join his band! But he couldn’t have two lead singers…. Unless they became a duet band! Ooh, that could work.

“Kenma,” he whispers - tries to whisper, maybe, because it comes out pretty loudly, unfortunately. “Kenma, join my band.”

Kenma nuzzles back into his chest. “I have a band,” he says, laughing and then grinning up at Tetsurou. “I can’t join _your_ band, stupid.”

“You can too,” Tetsurou says. “You can just leave your band!” 

Kenma’s silent for a second, and although Tetsurou feels like the room is spinning and he might puke on his shoes at any second, he has enough good sense to know that he might have hit a nerve with that one. He’s about to open his mouth to effusively apologize when Kenma says, “No, I’m not ready for that yet.” He looks up at Tetsurou again, his mouth stretched into a lazy grin, and Tetsurou wants to kiss him. He’s about to lean down and do it, too, when someone clears their throat. _Hajime_? What does he want?

“I think you two have had about enough, too,” he says. 

“I’ll take Kenma back,” Taketora, who sounds abnormally sharp and clear, says. He leans down and pats his back for Kenma to climb on. Kenma gives him a look, but Taketora glares back at him until Kenma finally pouts and gets on. Tetsurou wants to protest, doesn’t like seeing Kenma so close to anyone else, but he knows that he has no grounds to say anything. Kenma’s not _his,_ however much Tetsurou might desire that, and even drunk Tetsurou is aware of it. He steps back, feeling unsteady on his own feet. 

There’s a hand that claps on his back. “Tetsurou,” comes Daichi’s voice - Daichi? It has to be Daichi - and Tetsurou sways into his grip. “You’re being cut off too. Come on. You’re going to bed.”

“Don’t want to,” Tetsurou says, but Daichi is _strong_ \- all those weights he lifts on the bus have apparently been paying off. Tetsurou kind of wants to feel up his muscles. No, Koushi would probably punch him - Koushi’s always been weirdly possessive of Daichi. But just one touch wouldn’t hurt? No, bad, bad Tetsurou, nope. He'll wait to touch Kenma. Kenma’s soft and pliable but also weirdly firm in some places, and Tetsurou loves the way Kenma feels. 

But, Tetsurou thinks as Daichi hauls him off, he’s still haunted by Kei’s threatening words. He won’t cause the two of them to fall from grace. But Kei had said he’d known it all too well. Had Kei experienced something like that…?

Hm. Well, it doesn’t matter! He doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it too hard tonight anyways. It’s all about having fun tonight!

Or so he thinks until Daichi hauls him into his bunk.  
  


“Gonna get you some water,” Daichi says gruffly. “Don’t you dare fucking move, Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou thinks about it for a second, but then remembers Daichi’s strong grip and thinks that Daichi could easily squish his skull like a grape. Bad idea. He stays put, feeling an awful lot like he’s five, waiting for his mother to bring him a glass of water in bed. Well, before she’d taken off like a bat out of hell and left Tetsurou reeling in her wake. He winces a bit at the bitterness that clearly still lingers, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, because Daichi returns. 

“Drink,” Daichi says, pushing a glass of water into his grip. Tetsurou gulps it down, attempting to not get murdered in cold blood by his own band member. Once he finishes the last drop, Daichi sighs and pats his head, playing the role of the tired father all too well. “Don’t you dare leave,” he threatens again. “Get some sleep.”

Tetsurou obligingly closes his eyes. As he starts to drift off to sleep, though, he hears voices from the other room - Daichi and Koushi, he thinks. “He’s okay?” Koushi says urgently. 

“Course, he’s fine,” Daichi says reassuringly. There’s a silence, something that sounds like a quiet smack of lips, but that could just be Tetsurou imagining things or wishful thinking about how very much he’d love to be kissing a certain person about right now. “You worry too much,” Daichi says teasingly. “Though I’m starting to agree with you about the… _thing_ between him and Kenma.”

“Shocked you took this long to catch on.”

“I thought they were just really good friends,” Koushi says. “But drunk thoughts are sober feelings - and the way he was holding onto Kenma, what he was muttering…”

_He hadn’t muttered anything!_ Had he? Shit.

“He’s got to get ahold of himself,” Daichi says. “Or else I’m afraid that he’s going to get hurt.”

It gets quieter after that: they either stop talking, or move further away to where Tetsurou can’t hear them. Yet the words echo in his head as he dozes off to sleep, interspersed with Kei’s words, and they haunt him even in his dreams. 

_You’re going to crash and burn, Tetsurou._ The voice isn’t even Kei’s or Daichi’s or even Kenma’s. 

It’s his mother’s. 

Tetsurou wakes up gasping for air. He walks over to the couch, flips open his laptop. It’s seven AM. No one’s awake; he can hear Daichi and Koushi and Kiyoko’s soft breathing. But he can’t sleep - not when his head is being plagued. He pulls up Google and searches “Kei Tsukishima.”

There’s nothing scandalous about Kei. Just normal articles about him and the rest of Crowfeathers; a couple of interviews; a couple of spicy stories that involve him and every other member of the band, but no photos of him making out with Tadashi or anything like that. However, in one of Kei’s interviews, Tetsurou notices one particular question that stands out to him. 

**I:** _So your brother Akiteru was a member of the band Fighting Giants._

**K:** _He was._

**I:** _Do you think that inspired you to join a band, or to make music?_

**K:** _Yes. It did. But Akiteru and I are very different people._

Fighting Giants? The name rings a bell in Tetsurou’s head for some reason, but he can’t put a finger on why. Curiosity springing up from within him, he googles “Akiteru Tsukishima” and is immediately hit with all the scandals he’d been expecting from searching Kei’s name.

_Akiteru Tsukishima caught kissing band member Tenma Udai!_

_Fighting Giants - more like Fighting F******!_

_Akiteru Tsukishima and Tenma Udai confirm their relationship, to the disgust of their fans._

_Where Fighting Giants Went Wrong: The Rise and Fall of a Legacy_

Nausea rises up in his stomach. He feels like he’s going to throw up all over his laptop. God, this is a nightmare: exactly what he doesn’t want, could never want, for himself and Kenma. It’s disgusting - people are disgusting, and so terribly cruel. He clicks on the last article. It feels like watching a car crash: he can’t look away.

Three members, the article says says, formed Fighting Giants back in the early 90s: Tenma Udai, the frontman and guitarist who was affectionately referred to as the “Little Giant” due to his small stature, Akiteru Tsukishima, the bassist, and Saeko Tanaka, the drummer. They’d risen in popularity fairly quickly due to their fun, raunchy music. Rumors had circulated for a while about Saeko and both of the boys, because Saeko was a touchy and flirty type of girl. Their fans had fun teasing them about Akisaeko and Tensaeko. But none of the three ever came forward about publicly dating anyone.

That is, until leaks came forward: photos of Tenma Udai kissing Akiteru Tsukishima flat on the mouth. The article implies that they could have tried to cover it up, to say that it was a drunken kiss, just to mess with the fans, just a one time thing. 

But they didn’t.

They said they were in a relationship, that they were in love, and they didn’t care what people thought. It turned out that people thought a _lot_. The general public’s opinions seemed to be either that it was wrong to be gay, that they were doing it for attention, or that Tenma and Akiteru were dirty sinners and didn’t deserve their fame. They had their supporters too, of course, but their few loyal fans weren’t enough. The Fighting Giants tumbled from fame; their band dissolved, and Saeko Tanaka was shipped off to play with a different band, where she’d been ever since.

After finishing, Tetsurou whips out his phone and dials Kei’s number - which he’d reluctantly wheedled out of Kei one drunken night on tour, and is now suddenly immensely grateful for. On the fourth ring, Kei picks up. “What the fuck do you want, Tetsurou,” he says flatly. “It’s seven thirty AM. Do you have any sense of courtesy whatsoever?”

“Your brother,” Tetsurou says urgently. “Is that why you said what you did to me?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Tetsurou holds his breath until Kei finally says, “Yes. It is.”

Tetsurou exhales. It’s what he expected, but it’s painful to hear nonetheless - like a knife to the chest. He says, “Are they still together?”

“I don’t see why this is relevant.”

“Just answer. Please.”

“Yes,” Kei says stiffly. “They are. But that doesn’t mean you should -”

“Is he happy?”

Kei’s silent again. After a long, unpleasant pause, he says, “He says that he’s happy. But he works in a music store in a shopping center. Occasionally, he’ll have a customer walk in and say something like ‘Hey, you look just like Akiteru Tsukishima!’ And he’ll have to tell them that yes, that’s him, and then they’ll just kind of awkwardly laugh and walk away. It fucking sucks. I don’t want that for anyone.” He breathes in deeply. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I said this, but he deserved better. And I don’t want that for Kenma. Or even for you.”

“Means a lot,” Tetsurou says, half-sarcastically. He takes a second to pause and process Kei’s words. In truth, it’s not what he wants either. He doesn’t want to be a remnant in people’s minds, the kind of person that registers in the public consciousness because of a scandal and then flickers out. He has a dream to achieve. And more importantly, so does Kenma. “Okay,” he says, his voice shaky. “That’s all I wanted to know.” 

“Goodbye,” Kei says flatly, but there’s a bit of a shake in his tone too that conveys that the conversation has troubled him more than he cares to admit, and that in itself is enough to convince Tetsurou. 

Loving Kenma is natural. It feels like breathing to him. For that reason, Tetsurou is absolutely certain that he’ll love Kenma until the end of his breaths. But acting on that love has become an impossibility. Regardless of how much he loves, of how much he breathes, he’ll never tell him. He’ll let it fade to the back of his mind. Just as his breaths come without a conscious thought, so will his love for Kenma, until it never crosses his mind.

He’ll move on - find someone else eventually. Maybe he’ll love them more than Kenma; maybe he won’t. He’ll end things with Kenma soon, because he has to for both of their sakes, however much he doesn’t want to. Their fling will fade out, and Kenma will find someone else too. Someone better for him than Tetsurou. A nice girl who’ll love him with her entire heart the way Tetsurou can’t allow himself to. He’ll be domestic and have like six kids and be _happy_.

He and Kenma would end in flames anyways, he tells himself.

And yet, it still hurts, more than anything Tetsurou has ever felt before.

.

The tour isn’t very long. It’s just a couple more shows after that, so Tetsurou is able to avoid being alone with Kenma for most of the nights except the last show. After the last show of the tour, Kenma grabs ahold of Tetsurou and doesn’t let go. Tetsurou glances around frantically, making sure no one’s looking at them as he tries to subtly pry himself out of Kenma’s grasp. “Kenma,” he says quietly. “We’re in public.”

“Then let’s not be,” Kenma says urgently, his hand falling off Tetsurou. “It’s the last night of tour, Tetsurou. Please.” 

Fuck. Tetsurou is too, too weak to Kenma saying his first name in _that kind_ of a voice. So he gives a tiny nod and follows Kenma out into the night. It’s a dark, starry night. Tetsurou looks up and makes a silent wish that he could somehow be transported into a different universe. A universe where people wouldn’t care if he was with Kenma. A universe where he could unashamedly show off his love to the world. 

But that universe doesn’t exist.

He feels his body shaking as Kenma leads him to a hotel room, and all the more as he lowers himself on top of Kenma. “Kuro,” Kenma whispers, pushing his hair back gently with his hand. “Are you... are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tetsurou manages to croak out. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Kenma doesn’t look convinced. He rolls over, out from under Tetsurou, and pats the bed beside him. “Just lie down.” 

Tetsurou obliges, curling himself around Kenma, his body shaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” Kenma says, his voice soft as he strokes Tetsurou’s hair. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you know.”

Regardless, Tetsurou thinks, he feels pathetic. He clings onto Kenma, feeling his breathing even out at the warmth of Kenma’s body, the steadiness of having another person next to him. “Things have been weird recently,” he says, once he manages to get his breath back. “This tour is just… weird. Everyone’s been acting so damn strange and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“They’re not your responsibility,” Kenma says softly. 

“Have you ever heard of Akiteru Tsukishima?” Tetsurou asks. 

Kenma’s eyes narrow. “Related to Kei?”

“His brother,” Tetsurou confirms with a nod. “Used to be in a big-time successful band, but then he was caught with the band’s lead singer, a guy, and the band took a downhill turn real fast. Now he works at a music shop.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I guess I am, a little bit. I… I’m afraid of obscurity. I’m not ready to fade away just yet.”

“You won’t,” Kenma says, like it’s a fact. He leans over to Tetsurou, connects their lips again, but without any heat behind it this time. It’s more like a kiss of reassurance, but as the kiss continues, starts to fade away the longer they stay connected, Tetsurou realizes that it also holds the meaning of a goodbye. “You won’t,” Kenma whispers again.

Tetsurou wants to hold on. He wants to let go. He doesn’t know what the fuck he wants.

He kisses Kenma again, his hands fisting frantically into Kenma’s shirt. _Don’t leave me_ , his heart screams, while his mind yells for him to let go. It can’t ever work. And even if the two of them somehow did work out, despite Tetsurou’s pileup of emotional baggage and patented inability to love someone, it’d be at the expense of everything else. Tetsurou can’t do that. Not to Kenma. 

After they finish, he collapses next to Kenma, his heart squeezing hard in his chest. He doesn’t try to reach out for Kenma, and Kenma doesn’t move towards him either. 

. 

Catfight goes on another tour not long after their tour ends, with The Maine and We the Kings. Tetsurou can’t deny that he’s kind of glad that Black Claw hadn’t been included on that tour. Just another week later, though, he gets sent out on his own tour with some bands he doesn’t know that well. Immediately, he throws himself back into drinking, into whatever’s necessary to make him feel the way that Kenma does. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Kiyoko says on his third night of binge drinking in a row.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Tetsurou slurs. “This is only, like, my fourth beer. That’s not shit, Kiyo.”

Kiyoko takes the beer out of his hand. It reappears a second later, with a beverage in it that tastes suspiciously significantly more like water, but Tetsurou’s far too gone to question it. He gulps it down. “Get me another one?” he asks hopefully.

Kiyoko shakes her head instead. She grabs ahold of his arm. “You’ve got to stop,” she says firmly. “This isn’t healthy, Tetsurou.”

Daichi and Koushi walk up to her, exchanging words with her in low voices that Tetsurou can’t quite hear. Then Daichi grabs ahold of Tetsurou, hooking Tetsurou’s arm around his shoulders and Daichi’s arm around his midsection. “Kiyoko’s right,” he says roughly. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but whatever it is, this isn’t the way to get over it.”  
  


“Then what is?” Tetsurou asks, hearing his voice crack.

“We’ll figure something out,” Koushi says. “You’re going to get through this. But not like this, okay?”

“Okay,” Tetsurou mutters dumbly, and lets himself be led out like a child. 

Tetsurou’s never been more grateful for his band members than during that tour. He’d known too well that alcohol wasn’t a great coping mechanism, or at least not a healthy one, but hadn’t known what else to do. Instead, they seem determined to keep his mind off of Kenma (though they don’t know it’s Kenma, of course), dragging him along for game nights in the bus and other fun things that aren’t related to alcohol. When he gets left alone one night, he forces himself to call Morisuke rather than immediately hitting the bottle.

“Hey,” Morisuke says animatedly. “You on tour?”

“Ha, yeah,” Tetsurou says. “You?”

“Nah, not at the moment,” Morisuke replies. “I’m itching to get back on it, though. You ever go home and just get, like, immediately bored as fuck? Because that’s how I’m feeling at the moment.”

“Go do shit, Mori. Be a normal fuckin’ person for once in your life. Go to a museum or some shit.”

“The fuck am I gonna do at a museum? Look at old rocks? How is that fun?”

Tetsurou laughs. “Fine, fine, guess we can’t all be geology nerds.” It reminds him of how much he loves chemistry - how he hasn’t picked up his chemistry books in _months_ , now - and there’s a bit of a pang in his heart. Morisuke loves chemistry too, he remembers, but he’s not as fond of the other sciences. “Lev was asking about you last tour. Said he hoped you two could hang out or somethin’ next time you’re in the same place.”

“I would literally rather choke myself with a spoon.”

“Feels like you’re exaggerating a bit there. If I remember correctly, last time the two of you were on tour together a little birdie told me that you two had lunch together, of your own volition.”

“God, didn’t know Kenma was such a rat.”

It stings a little, hearing his name. “Hey, who says it was Kenma?” Tetsurou says, trying to keep the jovial tone to his voice.

Most likely, Morisuke isn’t fooled by it, but he just says, “Well, who else would’ve told you that shit?” before he switches gears. “Koutarou butt-dialed me the other day somehow. Pretty sure he was fucking someone during it, too.”

“No fuckin’ way.” 

“Yes fuckin’ way. Never hung up so fast in my life. I really never wanted to hear Koutarou moan like that.” 

It’s comforting, talking to Morisuke. But it’s just not as simple, as easy, as talking to Kenma is. He contemplates calling Kenma: after all, it’s not like they’d fought or anything. They’d just had a weird hookup that had ended in an unspoken goodbye. But then, a few hours later, Kenma finally calls him. 

“Sorry,” he says, his voice small. “I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“Kenma,” Tetsurou says, trying to pour all his warmth and affection into his voice. “Of course you can call. You… you’re my best friend. You know that, right?” Whatever else might have ended between them, that fact will always remain true. 

“Okay,” Kenma says. “Kuro, I… I saw these articles about me online, about how I don’t deserve my success, and I just…”

He listens to Kenma talk for a half an hour, on and off, offering his reassurances, telling him that the rumors are bullshit, that Kenma’s one of the most talented, most deserving people that he knows. Even though he’s not the one being reassured tonight, he feels warmer inside, somehow. Just talking to Kenma has always been enough to do that.

“Thanks for listening,” Kenma says softly. 

“Get some rest,” Tetsurou says, hoping his voice isn’t choked out by how fucking desperately in love he still is, will probably always be, with Kenma. “We’ll talk again soon.” 

There’s an air of finality in the words: a _we’re not ending our friendship like this_. He can hear the smile in Kenma’s voice as he says, “Okay, Kuro.”

.

After Black Claw’s tour ends in December, in the midst of Black Claw recording their third album, Full Soul releases their fourth album: and unfortunately, this time, things don’t go so smoothly.

It’s a good album, of that Tetsurou’s absolutely certain. The lyrics are fantastic; Keiji had truly outdone himself. The songs seem to flow together as if they’d been woven into a tapestry. But it is a very different musical style than their first three albums. And that, in itself, seems to throw the entire world of music out of whack.

_“Full Soul? More like Half Soul,”_ the music headlines read. _“Just another in the string of sellout bands.” “Full Soul Gone Commercial.” “No Soul at all in Full Soul’s latest shill album.” “5/10.” “3/10.” “2/10.” “May as well have been written by a robot.”_

Fuck, Tetsurou thinks.

Keiji Akaashi is… well, he’s sensitive, to say the least. Not in a derogatory way, but he’s always been a little more attuned to the opinions of others than the average person in the music scene, much like Kenma. Tetsurou can’t imagine that reading these articles will do him any good at all. That’s not even to mention Koutarou, who gets thrown into a downward spiral - his ‘emo mode’, as his band members refer to it - at the slightest of criticism. Yukie and Akinori, at the very least, have better heads on their shoulders, but Tetsurou has known both of them to respond to provocation on occasion. 

This can’t be good for Full Soul.

He calls Kenma, who tells him that Keiji isn’t doing great, but doesn’t go into much detail about it. He tries calling Koutarou, who doesn’t answer his calls, instead just shooting him a text in all caps about how he’s doing _great_ , even though it’s the most bullshit thing that Tetsurou’s ever heard in his life. And he doesn’t hear much else until the beginning of the next year, when he gets put on tour with Full Soul and White Foxes.

“Dude,” Tetsurou says, his voice accusatory as he approaches Koutarou. “What the fuck? You haven’t answered any of my calls.”

Koutarou groans, his voice a little bit lifeless as he says, “What’s there to say, dude? People hate the new album. They hate _us_.”

“They don’t hate you,” Tetsurou protests, squeezing Koutarou’s shoulder. “It’s impossible to hate you. They just don’t like it when bands change up their sound, even though we both know that it’s some natural shit. Don’t worry about it. You’re still the most badass frontman on the scene.”

“Huh,” Koutarou says. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I know so. And also, I overheard this girl on the way here talking about how hot you are - said she would happily die if it was your arms she was bein’ crushed by or some shit like that.”

“Ah, well,” Koutarou says in false modesty. “I mean, it just makes sense! You see these guns, man? I just can’t keep the girls away!” 

“Course,” Tetsurou says. He feels weird; it’s usually Keiji’s job to try to calm Koutarou down when Koutarou gets in one of his _moods_. But glancing across the room, he sees that Keiji’s sitting on a chair, his arms wrapped around his legs and his face pensive. “How’s Keiji?”

“Keiji, um.” Koutarou’s voice suddenly becomes glum all over again. “Keiji took it real hard. He kinda poured his heart into those lyrics, y’know? And suddenly he’s a corporate shill because our sound is different. I think it’s stupid an’ I told him not to listen to them, but he’s still sad.”

“Let’s go talk to him,” Tetsurou says, because he knows that regardless of how much Koutarou cares about Keiji, he’s not exactly the best at emotional sensitivity and might have accidentally made it worse. Akinori and Yukie have walked over to stand on either side of him, speaking to him in soft voices. Keiji just glances up at them as they approach.

“I’m fine,” Keiji says flatly. “It does not matter what other people say, so long as I believe in myself.”

“So you read an inspirational poster,” Tetsurou replies. “Congrats. Now talk to good old Tetsurou about how you _actually_ feel.” 

“I’ve talked to a lot of people, and have found it doesn’t make much of a difference,” Keiji replies. “But clearly I’m not feeling great. I spent a lot of effort in an album only for it to be called garbage, shit, and every negative descriptor in the book. However, there is nothing to do about it, because I still feel obligated to our fans to perform the album. So that’s it. I will survive.”  
  


“Shit.” Tetsurou runs a hand through his hair. “You know your album is good, right? Like damn good. And everyone I’ve talked to says the same thing -”

“I’m not Koutarou,” Keiji says. “You don’t have to make up stories to make me feel better.”

“Hey!” Koutarou protests. “People don’t make up stories to make me feel better! ...do they?”

“Course not,” Akinori says quickly, giving Keiji a look that clearly conveys the feeling of _shut the fuck up_. “We’d only tell you the truth, you know that.”

“Tetsurou’s telling the truth too, though,” Yukie says. “Our album is good as hell. If people can’t see that, then that’s their problem, not ours.”

“Well, it feels a lot like my problem,” Keiji snaps. “It’s not like it’s your drum work they’re criticizing. It’s the lyrical content and the general concept of the album. So it’s a direct attack on Koutarou and I.”

“They don’t like me,” Koutarou says, sagging again. 

Tetsurou doesn’t know what to say. Keiji has somewhat of a point - the main things that the critics had complained about were the lyrics and the album itself, rather than the drum work or the bass work or even the guitar work. And it shouldn’t matter. But Tetsurou knows all too well the sinking feeling of putting your entire heart into something only to go online and read reviews saying that it’s trash and no one should listen to it. He can’t imagine what it would be like if every single review was negative in that way. 

Akinori and Yukie jump in, trying to reassure the other two that the album is great, that people are crazy for not liking it. But Tetsurou feels a little bit like he’s sinking - like everything is suddenly pulling him downwards. He and Kenma are pulling apart, bit by bit. Hajime and Tooru’s differences haven’t been fully resolved. And now, this with Full Soul, a band that’s been by his side for so long. He doesn’t know what the hell to do.

He does everything he can that tour to try to cheer up Full Soul. He recruits Atsumu Miya, the lead singer of White Foxes, to try to give Keiji some kind of a motivational speech. There are rumors going around that Atsumu is the party animal of the band: surely, moreso than his brother, who is friendly enough but seems a bit standoffish, and more than the other two members of his band who eye Tetsurou with suspicion. Atsumu returns, though, with a stricken look on his face. 

“What,” he says, “is the meaning of life?” 

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “Are you… okay?”

“I need a moment of self-reflection,” Atsumu says, and then, after a pause, “I have to reevaluate my entire life.”

Tetsurou turns to look at Atsumu’s twin, who just shrugs. “I should’ve warned you that Atsumu’s pretty impressionable,” Osamu says. “Also, fairly easy to throw into an existential crisis.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “Would’ve been good to know, thanks.”

Osamu shrugs. “Too late now, I guess.”

Nothing seems to pull them out of their funk. On stage, they seem as upbeat as ever, Keiji crooning the lyrics into the mic while Koutarou jumps around with his guitar, but as soon as they leave the stage, the energy seems to be sucked out of them immediately. He organizes meetings with Daichi, Kiyoko, Koushi, Yukie, Akinori, and whatever members of White Foxes will allow themselves to be dragged into a meeting that day, but none of their plans ever seem to work. Kiyoko’s invitations to visit the snack shops nearby are turned down even by Koutarou. When Daichi and Koushi invite Keiji to join them for a museum visit, Keiji dejectedly shakes his head. Yukie tries to get Koutarou to participate in eating competitions against her, but Koutarou says he doesn’t feel like eating, which is a huge alarm bell in and of itself.

“This isn’t going well,” Daichi says quietly. 

“We shouldn’t have gone on this tour,” Akinori says. “It was a stupid ass decision, but Bo and Keiji both assured us that they’d be fine, and we were dumb enough to believe them. They’re clearly feeling like shit.” 

“The album is amazing,” Yukie says, crossing her arms. “Those fuckers wouldn’t know good music if it slapped them across the face.”

Kiyoko nods. “I agree,” she says, “but I don’t think we’ll be able to convince them of that, unfortunately.”

“Man,” Yukie says, sprawling out across the couch, “this is bullshit.”

Tetsurou wholeheartedly agrees, but he finds that he can’t formulate the words to speak. Instead, he just bobs his head in agreement and throws out a prayer to whatever god is listening that things will get better. 

However, much to the dismay of everyone on the tour, things very much do not get better. Absolutely none of their plans work out. And so Tetsurou is unfortunately not that surprised when, after the tour ends and he’s at the release party of his third album, feeling pleasantly buzzed with a (normal) serving of alcohol and the sound of his own voice, Koutarou says loudly, “We’re going on a break.”

“The hell d’you mean? You’re dating someone?”

“No,” Koutarou says, his eyes downcast, trained on the smooth marble of the bar counter. “Full Soul.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Y’know how sometimes don’t break up, they just go on a break? It’s like that,” Koutarou says mournfully. “I don’t want to tour with this album, an’ neither does Keiji. I can’t do it anymore. So we’re gonna take some time off and try to find ourselves again before we kick off Full Soul again.”

“F-full Soul is breaking up,” Tetsrou says, his breath suddenly coming a lot quicker. “What the fuck.”

“We aren’t breaking up,” Koutarou tells him again. “This isn’t the end of Full Soul by a long shot! Just a tiny little break. No one will even miss us.”

“No way,” Tetsurou breathes out. “No way. No fuckin’ way. You aren’t.” 

Koutarou shrugs, looking more defeated than Tetsurou’s ever seen him: every bit not the jubilant, excitable man that dances around the stage and gets the crowd pumped up like no one else can. “Sorry, man.”

Tetsurou’s about to say something else, but finds he can’t. His jaw feels frozen in place, his mouth open too big, an indication of his complete displeasure at the situation. Koutarou glances around uneasily. “I shouldn’t have told you at your own album release party,” he says uncomfortably. “But I didn’t know when I was gonna see you again in person, and I figured it’s one of those things you should say face-to-face, y’know? So, uh, sorry for ruining your night.” He gives another tiny smile and walks off, leaving Tetsurou alone, still frozen in place. 

“Kuro,” comes a tiny voice from behind him, and Tetsurou unfreezes at once, turning around to wrap his arms around Kenma’s body and bury his face in Kenma’s hair. “Bo told you,” comes Kenma’s quiet voice. 

“What the fuck,” Tetsurou repeats. 

“It’s probably for the best,” Kenma says, patting his back gently. “They weren’t happy. They needed some time away.”

“I don’t know,” Tetsurou says, his voice shaking. “I don’t know. If they can’t even make it through, what makes me think I can?” He realizes all too quickly his proximity to Kenma and jerks away as if he’s been burned. Not the best idea to be that close. 

“They’re not giving up,” Kenma says. “It’s just a break. They’ll come back. I know it.”

There’s no emotion behind the words, which is weirdly reassuring. It feels like a clinical assessment of the situation more than anything. Kenma is telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that Full Soul will come back, so they have to. 

“Okay,” Tetsurou says, breathing in deeply, clearing his head. “Also… hi.”

“Hi,” Kenma says with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“You knew already?”  
  


“They’d been talking about it for a while. Weren’t completely sure until recently, though. Keiji asked me if I thought it was a good idea.” Kenma inhales. “I said I thought it was. I didn’t want them to run themselves ragged playing an album that they’d grown to hate.”

Tetsurou stares at him. On one hand, he’s a little upset that Kenma hadn’t fucking told him, but he can imagine that Koutarou and Keiji had probably made him promise, and Kenma has a fairly strong sense of loyalty. And then, the next thought that enters his mind is that his love hasn’t faded a single bit. 

Kenma is still beautiful, standing here with his roots grown out again, his hair pulled up into a bun today, a big white hoodie on with a plaid shirt tied around his waist and a pair of ripped jeans. He’s the most beautiful thing Tetsurou’s ever laid his eyes on. And Tetsurou wants him so badly.

But he can’t, he won’t. He’s made up his mind. That aspect of their relationship is gone. And Tetsurou won’t be screwing both of them over by reviving it.

Tetsurou gives a small smile. “You’re right,” he concedes. “I guess I just… wasn’t expecting it. You hear about bands breaking up all the time, y’know, but it feels different when it’s a band you actually know.”

“You realize,” Kenma says slowly, “that you were in a band that broke up.”

“Yeah, but that was because I wanted to start a new band!” 

“Still. I felt kind of the same way about Neko’s breakup.”

“Aw, you really are a fan of mine,” Tetsurou says, grinning and nudging him. He’s feeling a little bit better, already, though, and wonders how Kenma seems to have that kind of magical power over him. “Okay. I guess I should get back to mingling. It is our release party, after all.” And everyone else is doing their fair share of mingling: Daichi and Koushi are dominating the dance floor, while Kiyoko is talking to Hitoka Yachi, who she’d probably invited, with Taketora watching her with wide eyes from a distance. It’s only him who’d isolated himself from everyone but Kenma.

“You probably should,” Kenma says, but he doesn’t make any move to step away, and Tetsurou mostly doesn’t want him to. He reminds himself that it’ll look weird if he spends all night with Kenma, especially if they end up standing too close. He reminds himself that there are people here to see him, that it’s his duty to talk to everyone in the room whether he wants to or not as not to seem like the stuck up, asocial type of frontman. He glances over at Kenma. God, he doesn’t want to leave.

But, with a nod and a wave, he makes his way back into the crowd. _It’s for the best,_ he tells himself, though he can’t say he fully believes it. His head still swims. 

.

The announcement hits the press a couple of days later. Predictably, all the Full Soul fans freak out, vacillating between being extremely sad and ‘in mourning’ and trying to be cautiously optimistic, reassuring each other that it’s just a break and that Full Soul will come back. When he logs onto his newly made Twitter account, he finds that his timeline is packed full of tribute tweets to Full Soul, almost like he’s at a funeral and everyone’s giving their fucking eulogies. Regardless, he feels obligated, so he makes a post on his LiveJournal and links to it on his Twitter, talking about how Full Soul had been important: to him, personally, as their dear friend, but also as a big part of the reason why he’s famous, why many of his friends are famous. The replies are flooded with “ _hahaha Koutetsu xD”_ and other weird shipping things, so Tetsurou ignores most of them.

Things have to get worse before they get better, though. Or at least that’s what he tries to tell himself when, during his next tour, another piece of bad news drops. 

Hajime Iwaizumi is leaving Bluecastle.

The news burns like wildfire through the internet. This is different, somehow, than the Full Soul news: it’s not a result of external factors like the criticism of Full Soul’s latest album. No, to have only one member leaving a band means that it’s the result of internal conflicts. Internal conflicts that Tetsurou knows all too well.

Hajime seems to by-and-large be ignoring requests for interviews and declining to comment about the situation. His representatives tell the public that it’s due to artistic differences and that Hajime will be ducking out of the spotlight for a while. Tetsurou thinks, _bullshit_ , and calls Tooru. When Tooru doesn’t answer, Tetsurou calls again, and again, until Tooru finally picks up. 

“Stop fucking calling me,” Tooru hisses into the phone.

“No,” Tetsurou says. “The fuck is going on?”

“What do you think, Tetsurou? Hajime and I couldn’t work things out. The arguments got worse. During one of the arguments, I said that if he hated things with me so much, then he could go and start his own band.” Tooru pauses for a second too long, and Tetsurou thinks he hears a slight sniffle, before he finally says, “I didn’t think he’d take it seriously.”

“Shit, Tooru.” Tetsurou feels his heart sink a little bit. “Was it really that bad?”

“We argued about everything,” Tooru says. “So it’s probably best that… we aren’t in the same band anymore. Still, he didn’t even tell me to my face. I just heard about it through our manager. ‘Hey, Tooru, were you aware that Hajime is leaving the band?’ No, I fucking wasn’t, thank you! And I don’t want to talk to him ever again. So there’s that.”

“He’s your best friend,” Tetsurou says weakly. “What the hell happened? You can’t just say that you’re never gonna talk to him again.”

“I can,” Tooru says, “and I will. So if you’re just going to try to convince me to talk to Hajime, you might as well just hang up right now, because it’s not happening!” 

“Okay,” Tetsurou says dumbly. He talks to Tooru a little longer, asks to make sure that Issei and Takahiro are doing okay, asks what their plans for the next album are, but everything feels weird, like he’s just going through the motions. This is definitely different from the Neko breakup - he and Morisuke still talk often, and Nobuyuki as well, though Nobuyuki is busy with his own family these days. They’d never gotten to _this_ point. He can’t imagine.

He can’t imagine things ending like this with Kenma, who he feels closer to than anyone at this point - and yet now he feels like it could be possible. 

He feels dazed as he walks over to the couch and collapses on it. “It’s weird,” Koushi says. “Really weird.”  
  


“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “Yeah.”

He feels like an idiot, but he can’t think of the words to say. Koushi pats him on the head softly, like a reassurance. Regardless, Tetsurou doesn’t feel that reassured. 

Everything, it seems, comes to an end eventually. It just feels like Tetsurou’s the one that’s being left behind.

.

Time seems to pass in a blur from that point onwards. One tour blurs into another. In between, Tetsurou’s pretty sure he writes songs, songs that as always center around one person, but around his experiences in general as well: some songs about how everything around him is in torment. He goes on tour with Powerhouse, and even Wakatoshi Ushijima, who Tetsurou is half-convinced might be the most oblivious man on the planet, becomes concerned about him. 

“Tetsurou,” he says. “It seems as though you are not even on this planet most of the time. Is something wrong?”

“Everything just feels wrong,” Tetsurou says. He feels weird about it, because he’s never even considered ranting about his problems to Wakatoshi of all people. But Wakatoshi is here, and he’s not Kenma, who Tetsurou has been desperately trying to bury his feelings for, and he’s not his band members, who probably might haul him off to a therapist one of these days, so he feels a little more open to talking to Wakatoshi for some reason. “You know how Hajime left Bluecastle recently?”

“Yes, of course,” Wakatoshi says. “Tooru has been very torn up about it, although he will probably never admit it.”

Tetsurou wants to ask when the fuck Wakatoshi and Tooru got so close, how Wakatoshi is apparently able to read Tooru’s emotions like this, but decides that it’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened recently. He continues, “I guess it’s thrown me into a little bit of a crisis. I keep thinking about how even the closest friendships can be destroyed. That along with Full Soul going on break - it just feels like everything is changing so quickly, and I’m the last one to know.” And the thing with Kenma, of course, though it’s not like he can tell Wakatoshi about that. The thing with Kenma ending. Full Soul ending. Tooru and Hajime ending. Everything is ending, and Tetsurou isn’t ready. 

“Ah,” Wakatoshi says. “I suppose that makes sense. A lot of things are coming to an end. But at the same time, things are beginning.”

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s true that bands are breaking up,” Wakatoshi says. “But at the same time, I am hearing about new bands that are just getting started. I also know that, on average, I am predicted to live over forty more years. That is a long time. I have not reached the halfway point of my life. Therefore, it is not possible for everything around me to be ending just yet.”

“Huh.” Tetsurou pauses. Wakatoshi speaks in such a literal way that it kind of makes sense. It’s hard to argue when he speaks only facts. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” Wakatoshi says, matter-of-factly. “And I am of the belief that Tooru will definitely speak to Hajime again, despite what he may say. I do not believe that long-standing friendships can be destroyed that easily.”

It’s weird to think that Wakatoshi Ushijima has a point when it comes to this subject, but he does. And, well, it seems that Wakatoshi has a few ‘long-standing friendships’ of his own, he realizes as Satori Tendou shows up, orders a drink, and immediately launches into a rant about how annoying Eita and Kenjirou are with their weird arguments that make no sense at all. Wakatoshi listens steadfastly, offers a couple of solutions of his own, but mostly listens. It makes Tetsurou’s chest ache a little bit with missing Kenma, though he’s still convinced that the best thing to do at the moment is not to reach out to them, to try to separate himself from Kenma, if only a little bit. He’ll love Kenma forever, it’s true - but maybe some distance between them will make the pain ease a little bit.

Or maybe it’s true what they say, that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

He sure as hell hopes not.

.

In retrospect, the signs are all there. 

While Tetsurou and Black Claw tour, first with Powerhouse but then with some other bands, Catfight does a couple of shows, but they’re scattered and sparse. When Tetsurou talks to Kenma, he never talks about music. On one occasion, when Tetsurou jokingly asks how the new album is going, Kenma hastily changes the subject. Tetsurou doesn’t think anything about it, though. Kenma’s weird like that sometimes. Taketora’s regaled him with tales of how he’d thought Kenma might actually kill him in cold blood when he’d peeked at the notebook Kenma keeps with all of his unfinished songs. He figures this is similar: Kenma not wanting to talk about his music until it’s been completely done and ready for the public’s listening.

So what comes next is completely unexpected.

Koutarou asks him to perform at a festival with all of the other bands on their label: Catfight, Powerhouse, Bluecastle, and a couple of others, so of course Tetsurou accepts, though he’s not fond of the way his chest squeezes upon not seeing _Full Soul_ on the lineup for a festival under Koutarou’s label’s name. Koutarou excitedly thanks him, making sure to tell him, “I mean, it’s kind of nice to have a break, y’know? Not just think about my band all the time! I have more time to think about my label ‘n stuff! So I’m gonna organize tons of cool stuff like this festival!” 

Tetsurou absolutely does not believe him, not one bit. But he is aware of the fact that he has to at least pretend to believe him to be a good friend, to attempt to be supportive, so he just grins and says, “I’m happy for you, man. Thanks for the invitation.” 

Bluecastle is the first band he runs into at the festival, and it feels empty without Hajime. Tooru has looped in two new members that he excitedly introduces to Tetsurou, though it’s obvious that the undertone of enthusiasm in his voice is completely fake. Akira Kunimi and Yuutarou Kindaichi, he says, shoving two boys at him that don’t look all that enthused to meet him but offer up handshakes anyways. He keeps glancing over at his side, looking for something that’s not there, his expression dipping a little lower each time he doesn’t find what _-_ or rather, who - he’s looking for. Tetsurou’s chest aches a little more each time. 

The only thing that cheers him up a little bit is seeing Kenma, although he’s aware it probably shouldn’t. There’s something about Kenma that seems a little bit more nervous than usual today, though. Tetsurou hugs him, making sure to pull away before it becomes too suspiciously long, and whispers, “Hey, are you okay?” into his ear. 

“Fine,” Kenma says, though it sounds a little stiff. “Just… it’s a big festival today. I guess I’m a little bit nervous.”

The festival isn’t much bigger than Catfight’s normal shows at this point, given how big Catfight had gotten after their last album. It certainly doesn’t draw as big a crowd as Warped. Tetsurou knows that Kenma struggles with occasional stage fright, though, so he figures it’s just one of those days. He squeezes Kenma’s shoulder and says, “It’ll be fine. You’ll be amazing. You always are.”

God, he’s way too obvious, he thinks to himself, feeling the heat rise up to his cheeks. Still, it doesn’t seem to cheer Kenma up too much. Kenma just mutters a quiet, “Thanks,” and doesn’t make eye contact.

Something’s going on, but Tetsurou doesn’t have the time to figure out what. 

Instead, he does his best to perform as usual, grateful more than ever that his band members are able to supplement his energy. Koushi bickers with him on the mic, and Kiyoko even gives a short speech when he finds that he’s lacking the words to say, which makes their fans go completely crazy. God, it’s hard to play the songs about Kenma these days: but those tend to be the most popular. People go fucking crazy for love songs. He calls Kenma and Wakatoshi on stage for their finale,their collaboration song, and the fans’ yells become even louder. Tetsurou performs as usual - orbiting around Kenma primarily, with occasional leaning on Wakatoshi and messing with him. Still, Kenma seems weird. He’s never been the most energetic frontman, but he seems even more low energy than usual today. His suspicion is further confirmed when Catfight take the stage afterwards.

Kenma’s voice is, as always, strong and beautiful. It’s the kind of voice that Tetsurou could listen to all day. It captivates him. But there’s just no heart in anything he’s singing, none of the fire that Kenma had so clearly possessed on that first EP that Tetsurou had listened to. A feeling of dread fills Tetsurou’s stomach. He has to talk to Kenma, to see what the hell is going on - maybe to try to inspire him, or maybe they can figure out a way to reduce the amount of stage fright that he experiences - 

But then, after the show, Kenma takes ahold of his hand and pulls him aside. Tetsurou stares at him, a questioning look on his face, and Kenma says, “Just come with me. I need to talk to you.”

“O-okay,” Tetsurou says. It probably has something to do with why Kenma’s been acting so weird, after all, and he’s desperately curious, so he follows Kenma into an empty room. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? Shit, did I do something wrong?”

Kenma inhales deeply. Tetsurou’s heart pounds desperately - shit, this must be serious. Is Kenma sick? Is Kenma _dying_? God, what if he has cancer or something? There’d been someone in the scene that had been diagnosed with cancer a couple of years ago - so it happens, Tetsurou’s well aware. He braces himself for the worst as Kenma finally opens his mouth, finally says, “That was Catfight’s last show.”

_What. The. Fuck._

“That was Catfight’s last - _what_?” Tetsurou’s mouth goes dry. “What are you talking about?”

Kenma stares at the ground, still looking uncomfortable. “Catfight’s breaking up,” he mumbles. “We haven’t announced it officially or anything, but we’re all in agreement that it’s time. It’s over. That was it.”

Tetsurou’s jaw drops. He finds that he can’t even breathe. Of all the things he’d considered, this hadn’t even been a possibility. Sure, Kenma had been weird about music recently - but that happens to everyone! Every artist has slumps! It doesn’t mean you break up the band! Unless - “Are you going to start a new band?” he manages, his voice weak. “Like I did?”

“No,” Kenma says. “I’m not. I think I’m going to take a break from music for a little while.”

“What the hell do you mean?” Tetsurou hisses. “Take a break from music?! You’re so talented, Kenma, and you’re at the peak of your career - it’s not like Full Soul or even Neko, your last album was so popular!” 

“It’s not about popularity, Kuro. I’m tired of the spotlight.”

“And what, was I the last to know?! It seems like you’ve been thinking this over for a while. Did I not deserve to be told?” 

“I knew that you would react like this,” Kenma says flatly. “So I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Of course I would react like this! You have so much potential! What the fuck happened to the kid I met in the bar, huh? The kid that gave me his EP and told me it was his fucking dream to be a musician?! The kid I helped get signed? Are you gonna throw all that away?”

“Bands don’t last forever.”

“You don’t have to last forever! Just - just a couple more years, maybe. I just want to know what the fuck has changed!” Tetsurou’s breathing is too fast now. Somewhere deep inside, he knows that this isn’t a personal attack on him. He knows that bands do come to an end, and even that Kenma hasn’t seemed happy for a while now, but God, he can’t think that rationally right now. Not when Full Soul is broken up and Hajime isn’t in Bluecastle anymore and everything is falling _the fuck apart around him and now he won’t even have Kenma anymore._ “What happened to you, Kenma?! I thought this was your dream!”

“You’re right,” Kenma says. “It was my dream. Back when I was 21 and young and music was everything to me. But I’m almost fucking thirty now, all right? And at this point I’m tired of living life in the spotlight, of everything I do being scrutinized. I don’t want to go to the fucking grocery store and have a reporter take a picture inside my bag and speculate on if I have a secret lover because I’m buying chocolate. And worse, when it comes to love, I can’t even - “ He stops suddenly, his breathing heavy. 

Tetsurou waits for a second for him to continue, but when it becomes obvious Kenma isn’t planning on continuing, Tetsurou prods, “Can’t even what?” His voice is a little softer now.

“Nothing.” Kenma exhales, looking completely defeated. “It doesn’t even matter. But there. I told you before the news broke publicly, which is better than I could’ve done. So that’s it.”

“So that’s it,” Tetsurou repeats numbly. “Almost 8 years. Only for it to end like this.”

“I guess so,” Kenma says. Supposedly, they’re talking about the end of Kenma’s band, about the end of their professional relationship, maybe even the end of Kenma’s music career. But it feels like they’re talking about something else entirely. 

It’s not until Kenma sighs, turning over his shoulder and walking out of the room, leaving Tetsurou totally alone, that it occurs to Tetsurou that Kenma had mentioned love, had made it sound like Kenma was in love with - with someone.

Tetsurou hopes it’s him, but knows it doesn’t matter either way, because they still can’t be together. Because Tetsurou’s still in a band, because Tetsurou’s still not worthy of Kenma, because… Tetsurou can’t love Kenma the way he deserves to be loved. And he’s still - angry. Betrayed. _Angry._ How the fuck could Kenma just spring something like this on him? How could he fucking leave Tetsurou? Tetsurou wants to scream, wants to cry, doesn’t know what the hell he wants to do.

The door slams closed behind Kenma. 

_So that’s it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say besides 1) I'm sorry 2) there are only two chapters left and one's an epilogue so keep that in mind.  
> Thank you all so much for reading once again, and please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	11. To Be With You

There are not one but two hundred thousand miles on my car.

To be with you I've driven far, but I loved you that much.

Yes I made those morning coffee drinks at four AM for a ring, but I loved you that much.

And remember the time I wrote that song and many folks sang along? Yeah, I loved you that much.

\-  _ 200,000 _ , The Rocket Summer

He drinks again that night. He scans the bar for Kenma first, makes sure Kenma isn’t there, lest he do something completely fucking stupid after drinking. But Kenma isn’t there. Taketora, Sou, Lev, and Shouhei are, but there’s no sign of the final member. Shouhei sends Tetsurou a glance full of something like pity. Tetsurou just shakes his head slowly in response. There’s nothing left for him to say.

“I know it’s hard,” Koushi says, patting his back. “But don’t let yourself go back to when you were drinking yourself stupid every night. You’ve improved so much, and I’m sure can get through this too, yeah?”

Tetsurou tilts his head slowly towards Koushi. “They told you.”

“Yeah,” Koushi says. “Kenma let us know. He said you’d probably be upset.”

Well, isn’t it just like Kenma to look out for him even when Tetsurou’s still so pissed at him. He sighs. “Of course I’m fucking upset.”

“It’s not like it’s personal,” Daichi points out. “Bands break up for all kinds of reasons. I’d think that you of all people would know that.” 

“It’s not that they’re breaking up, exactly,” Tetsurou says. “But he says he’s not going to even do music anymore. He says that the spotlight is too much for him. But if he’s not doing music - if he’s not going on tours - then he won’t be - “ Tetsurou stops himself, aware that if he keeps going down this track he might start ranting about how much he’ll miss Kenma, how much it’ll fucking sting to know that they’ll never be able to be on tour together again, and it’ll be far too obvious how he feels. Even though he’s stopped, though, Daichi, Kiyoko, and Koushi still look at him with eyes that scream full understanding.

“It’s okay to miss him,” Kiyoko says softly. “But being angry with him isn’t gonna change anything.”

“I don’t want to talk to him any time soon,” Tetsurou says, and it sounds achingly familiar. Truly, even the best laid friendships can fall apart, Tetsurou thinks bitterly. “I can’t believe this.”

“You don’t have to talk to him right now,” Koushi says. “Just… don’t let this ruin everything.”

“He’s still your best friend,” Kiyoko points out. 

Even more than that. Best friend, possible love of his life. Over the past eight years, Kenma Kozume has become more to Tetsurou than he knows how to express. Which is why this betrayal stings worse than words can say. 

He takes another sip of the drink in front of him. “It won’t ruin everything,” he says, but it feels like a lie. 

.

He doesn’t talk to Kenma that night. 

He doesn’t talk to Kenma the next day, either. Or the next day. Weeks pass, with no word from either of them. Tetsurou has long known that Kenma is stubborn, and that he is equally as stubborn, not to mention that it would feel like a defeat to reach out to Kenma, especially when it was Kenma who had essentially wronged him. It’d be giving up, accepting blame. 

There’s a part of him deep inside that knows it’s a bit of an overreaction. It’s true that Kenma hates attention, that he’s a very different person today than he’d been when Tetsurou had first met him 8 years ago, but Tetsurou still feels betrayed with the way he’d gone about this, with the way he’s giving it all up at once. So he refuses to be the one to reach out to Kenma. 

Not to mention the fact that Kenma had hinted at being in love with someone. If it is Tetsurou, it wouldn’t work out; if it’s not Tetsurou, it feels like a knife to the chest. It’s a lose-lose situation.

Life goes on, regardless. It won’t stop for him and Kenma, regardless of how much he’d love it to. And before he knows it, Black Claw is releasing their fourth album, the one he’d been working on over the course of the past year. It has the same happy sound as the rest of their albums. However, there’s something darker in the lyrics, something a little more sad - something hidden within the lyrics that relates to his situation with life and with Kenma. But there are still love songs within the album that had been written during a happier time. And it’s one of those, the lead single of the album, that becomes a big hit. 

Suddenly, Tetsurou is catapulted into the spotlight, along with the rest of Black Claw. He feels like he can’t switch on the radio anymore without hearing his voice at least once. They are asked to come in for interviews, asked to headline their own tour, with some bands that Tetsurou had thought of as being bigger in the scene opening for  _ them.  _ But there’s one question that he keeps getting asked.

“So what’s  _ Mind & Heart  _ about? Or rather, who?” Tetsurou gets asked by a rather giggly interviewer. “Do you have a special someone that you’ve been keeping from the public?”

“It’s about my devotion to pizza,” Tetsurou says gruffly.

Koushi laughs. “God, if that’s not the most pop punk thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m the total stereotype,” Tetsurou says, his mouth quirking up. “I wanna get out of this town and eat pizza on my motorcycle.”

“While wearing a plaid shirt,” Kiyoko adds. 

“Naturally.”

But it’s not only the public that’s curious, apparently. On one occasion, his band members ask him about the song as well. “It’s just odd that you keep dodging the question,” Daichi says. “People are gonna get suspicious.”

“It’s seriously about my love for pizza.” When all three of them stare at him disbelievingly, he sighs, pushing himself up on his elbows. “What, you don’t believe me? Fine, then I’ll be honest, I don’t want to say. And I don’t see how you guys can say shit, since none of you have ever told me anything about your love lives.”

Koushi snorts, his gaze darting over to Daichi for a second before he says, “Mine isn’t exactly the most exciting.”

So there’s definitely something going on there, Tetsurou thinks. He’s had a little bit of a hint for a while, but asking would make it feel real. If they confirmed, then he’d realize that his band has been in jeopardy from the beginning, that avoiding Kenma has been pointless. They have managed to keep it super undercover anyways - there are far less “Daisuga” fics than there are “Tetsuken.” So Tetsurou doesn’t ask, instead letting his gaze flicker over to Kiyoko. 

“I don’t have anything either,” Kiyoko says. “At the moment, at least. But… there is someone that I’m interested in.” 

“Huh,” Tetsurou says, cupping his jaw. “We’re finally getting somewhere interesting.” 

“I don’t think I should say any more,” Kiyoko says. “But sh- he… I don’t think it’s going anywhere between us at the moment, so I do not think it matters, anyways.”

_ Sh _ ? Could it be that Kiyoko had caught herself before she’d said she? Was Kiyoko interested in women? It was certainly true that Kiyoko seemed to hang out more with women than with anyone else, and she’d never indicated a real interest in men, despite being pursued by people… but that would mean that everyone in his band wasn’t completely straight, which is kind of terrifying to Tetsurou. He doesn’t dwell on that train of thought any longer. “Well,” Tetsurou says, “I guess that puts us in exactly the same boat.” It’s not like things are going anywhere between he and Kenma, after all. And it’s starting to seem like they never will. 

He pats Kiyoko’s shoulder reassuringly, and Kiyoko gives him a sad looking smile. He wonders if she knows. He thinks she probably does, but thinks that at least she won’t tell anyone. At least there’s that. 

.

At first, it’s easy enough to ignore the emptiness that gnaws at Tetsurou’s insides. He’s on tour, playing for big crowds, doing interviews, talking to fans, ignoring the people that tweet him “How’s Kenma?” “Do you still talk to Kenma?” “I miss Tetsuken”, because the only thing he could possibly reply to that is  _ Me fucking too,  _ which doesn’t seem like a wholly appropriate response. 

But then he sits down with nothing but a pen, a paper, and the chaos of his mind, and finds that it’s worse than he’d thought.

He has nothing to write. Not even leftover bitterness from the whole thing with Kenma - nope, there’s nothing there either. Apparently heartbreak isn’t quite the inspiration he’d thought it would be. He just feels completely empty. He stares at the blank paper and feels exactly the same way that he had when Neko had been about to break up, and he fears for what that means. 

It takes about half an hour of wallowing in his own feelings before he gives up and puts on one of Kenma’s old interviews. 

His band members don’t lie: Kenma does act awkward in interviews. The interviewer will ask him questions, and he’ll take a second to think, chewing on his lower lip. Then he’ll say something like, “Well, uh, I hope to one day live up to the lyrical greatness of The Smiths, but… I don’t think I’m on that level,” usually with even more pauses inserted. It’d be hard to watch if it weren’t Kenma: his Kenma, who he misses with every bit of his being. 

And then the interviewer asks, “So one hot topic of discussion lately has been your friendship with Tetsurou Kuroo. Tell me more about that.” 

“Kuro,” Kenma says, and Tetsurou realizes all at once how much he’s missed hearing his nickname from Kenma’s lips. The hot tears start to pour down his cheeks, despite his desperate attempts to hold them in. “Kuro is… well, he’s the first person who ever believed in me, uh, in Catfight. I don’t really know what to say other than that he’s… he’s great. He’s one of the best people I know.”

The tears come hotter and faster down his cheeks.  _ Doubt you’d say that now,  _ he thinks, because it’s not like it’s even true in the first place. He’s an asshole: it’s something he’s always pretty much known about himself, but it’s something that Kenma probably also realizes now.  _ Shit.  _

To only torture himself further, he pulls up another old Kenma interview: this one where he’d been the one to interview Kenma, courtesy of Taketora’s request. Tetsurou’s grinning in the video, holding out a banana towards Kenma. “Can’t believe I’m actually here with Kenma Kozume,” video Tetsurou sing-songs. The real Tetsurou winces at his own face in the video - his love for Kenma is evident in his gaze. No wonder there are so many videos that are cropped to focus only on him looking at Kenma.

Kenma blinks at him in the video. “Why are you interviewing me with a banana?”

“I didn’t have a fuckin’ microphone,” video Tetsurou complains. “So I had to make do. Ok, tell me: what’s your favorite beverage?” 

“Hot chocolate,” Kenma mumbles, trying to lean away from Tetsurou. Rather than let him, though, Tetsurou steps closer, wrapping his arm around Kenma’s shoulders and giving it a squeeze. Kenma doesn’t look displeased. He glances up at Tetsurou, a tiny smile on his face. The current day Tetsurou sniffles again. 

“Who’s your favorite member of Black Claw?”

“Kiyoko.”

“Wh - you said that so fast!”   
  


“Because it’s the truth.”

“It better not be!” The video Tetsurou is laughing and Kenma is smiling and they both look so fucking  _ happy  _ that it disgusts Tetsurou, because that is over now. They’ll never look at each other with that much happiness again. 

He can’t take it anymore. He pauses the video, buries his head into his arms. Everything’s gone to hell: it’s all crumbling down, him and Kenma, the band scene in general. And what can he do about it? Even if he were to reach out to Kenma, even if there was some semblance of a chance that Kenma loves him back, it doesn’t even matter. They can’t be together. 

And they’ll never be on tour together again. 

He misses Kenma so damn much it physically pains him. He can’t find the words to even write about it. And if he somehow could, he’s sure that everyone would immediately realize who it’s about: the equivalent of a breakup album right after he stops talking to Kenma? It’s way too obvious. 

So there’s nothing he can do, which therefore means that he’ll just keep doing nothing, no matter how painful it is.

.

Months pass. He’s on tour again when Morisuke calls. 

“Heard you’ve been sulking around recently,” Morisuke says flatly. 

“I have not,” Tetsurou says, trying to keep the sulkiness out of his voice. 

“Because Catfight broke up, right? And some shit went down with you and Kenma.” 

“Nothing went down with me and Kenma. He decided that he was tired of the spotlight and that it was time for a change. It had nothing to do with me.”

“So that’s why you sound like a fucking scorned ex, right? Spare me,” Morisuke says. “And that’s why you haven’t talked to him at all on Twitter or mentioned him at all in months. Yes, I follow your social media, asshole. You’re such a bad liar.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tetsurou says. 

“You’re sulking. You’re not in your right mind. Clearly it does matter,” Morisuke says. “I’m saying this because I care about you, you jackass. You’ve got to get it together.” 

Tetsurou sighs. Still, he can’t help but start to think about it - he just doesn’t know how the hell to get it together. 

It’s Morisuke’s words, along with a call from Koutarou, that makes Tetsurou’s brain cells start whirring. After a few minutes of casual conversation with Koutarou, Koutarou says, “Man, you sound really unhappy.”

“I’m not that unhappy,” Tetsurou protests. “It’s just that everyone’s breaking up and leaving and moving on and here I am, still stuck in the same old fuckin’ place, you know? And Kenma - who knows if I’ll ever see him again, but he certainly won’t be on tour with me, and - “

“Who says you have to be stuck in the same place?” Koutarou asks. 

“What do you mean?” Tetsurou asks. 

“Wellllll,” Koutarou says. “I mean, if you can’t write anyways and you’re not enjoying tours and stuff, then why keep doin’ them! Makin’ your fans happy is cool and all, but it shouldn’t mean that you’re unhappy because of it! And if you are, it’s time to try somethin’ new!” He pauses, as if to catch his breath, and then says, “There’s so much more to music than just bein’ the frontman of a band, you know. You could be anything! You could be the drummer, or the music producer, y’know, like Keiji’s been tryin’ his hand at, or you could be a behind-the-scenes lyricist, or you could even try and find people to get signed, kinda like you did Catfight!” 

_ Like you did Catfight. _

It had felt good, Tetsurou has to admit, to ‘discover’ Catfight. It had felt good to be able to make Kenma’s dreams come true, and the dreams of the other four guys as well, regardless of how much Kenma seems to not appreciate it now. He tries for a moment to imagine doing it for a career. He tries to imagine not being on the road anymore, just sitting in a studio, listening to new albums, giving suggestions, choosing which dreams to make come true. 

To be honest, it’s not the worst thing that he’s ever imagined.

But… but he can’t. He has a band still; he has Koushi and Daichi and Kiyoko. They’re  _ popular _ \- their band’s latest single has taken off and their album had charted. It’s the best time to keep going, isn’t it?

He thinks about Full Soul, though, about the expressions on their faces, dull and lifeless, sad, when they’d told him about how their latest album had done, talked about the critiques. He’s aware that after hitting a peak there’s nowhere to go but down.

Shit, was this how Kenma had felt? Maybe he’s an even bigger moron than he’d thought. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his head, though. Tells himself that it’s not an option at the moment. Instead, he decides to go to a music shop, try to find inspiration in the music of other people since he’s apparently incapable of finding it within himself. 

He’s browsing through the alternative rock section, looking at the new releases, and can’t help but wince when he sees the latest Catfight album tucked in with them despite the fact that it’s been a few years now. The familiar artwork stings. He’s about to turn away, find another section to look at, when he hears, “Can I help you?”

“Just looking, thanks,” Tetsurou says, turning to look at the worker to offer a tiny smile. Immediately, he freezes.

He  _ knows _ that face. 

It’s Kei’s brother. Akiteru Tsukishima. The one that had been crucified by the media for his affair with his band member and is now standing in front of him, a grin on his face and a ring gleaming on his finger.  _ A ring?  _ Akiteru breaks his reverie by saying, “You’re Tetsurou Kuroo, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tetsurou manages to say. “I know your brother. Kei.”

“Ah, yeah! You’ve probably been on tour with him,” Akiteru says. “How’s he doing? I try to talk to him when I can, but you know how things are when you’re a successful musician. Proud as hell of him, though. I keep subtly pushing Crowfeathers’ albums to the front of the display.”

“He’s… fine,” Tetsurou says. “The same as always, you know Kei. But, uh, do you mind if I talk to you about something?” 

Akiteru glances around at the empty store and shrugs. “Sure,” he says. “Customers are getting less and less these days anyways. I’ve got the time.”

“I’m in love with a guy,” Tetsurou says, and it feels like a relief to finally say it, after all this time. It’s something he’s known for certain for so long now, but had to keep buried deep down inside. And now he can finally speak it. “Kenma Kozume from Catfight. I’m in love with him, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”

“Ah,” Akiteru says. There’s a knowing look in his eyes. “It’s pretty scary, isn’t it? When you first figure it out.”

“Fucking terrifying,” Tetsurou confesses. “I hadn’t - I didn’t even think I was gay or anything. I’d never liked a guy like that. But then there was Kenma. And he’s just… different. He’s amazing. Beautiful, funny, caring, the only person I’ve felt 100% comfortable with. But it doesn’t matter, right? I can’t be with him like that… right?”

Akiteru pauses, a measured pause where it seems like he’s thinking, before he finally says, “In the end, I can’t tell you what choice to make here. But if you love him - really love him - then there are ways.” He glances down at his ring again, an obvious fondness in his eyes.

“A-are you married?” Tetsurou stammers out.

Akiteru shrugs. “More or less,” he says. “Officially, no. It’s not legally recognized at this point, though I’m still praying it will be soon. But in both of our minds - yeah, we are. I committed to him forever, and him to me. And that’s basically what makes up a marriage.”

Tetsurou stares at his ring. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s certain that there’s only one person that he wants that  _ forever _ with, only one person he will ever want forever with, probably. He bites down on his lip. “Was it worth it?” he asks quietly. “You gave up a lot to be with him, didn’t you?”

“My dream, and his dream, was music, that’s true,” Akiteru says. “But it doesn’t matter. Neither of us wanted to be in the spotlight for that long of a time anyways. And I’m still working with music, and he’s working as a producer at the moment, so we’re both still working towards our dream. Just in a different way. Helping other people with their dreams. It’s kind of nice, to be honest.” He stops again, looking contemplatively at an album cover in his hands. It takes Tetsurou a minute to realize that Akiteru’s holding one of his own band’s old CDs. “Was it worth it? I’d say yes. He’s worth it.” There’s a tiny smile on his face as he sets the CD back down, a clear fondness in his eyes.

If someone were to ask Tetsurou if Kenma was worth it, Tetsurou knows that his answer would be exactly the same.

His head suddenly feels like it’s going to explode.

With a small grimace, he nods. “That’s all I wanted to know,” he says. “Uh, thank you.” 

Akiteru nods back. “I’ll let you get back to shopping then. But hey - good luck. I hope things work out for you. Both of you. And… things will get better for people like us. I’m sure of it.”

_ People like us.  _ People that aren’t the norm, men that like men, men that are in  _ love  _ with men. Gay men. Tetsurou still can’t bring himself to fully refer to himself with the label, but somehow Akiteru looping Tetsurou in with himself doesn’t sting the way Tetsurou would think it would. Tetsurou gives a tiny smile. “I hope so,” he says. 

He buys a couple of albums from bands he’s never listened to before, up-and-coming bands, but listening to them at home doesn’t inspire him to write anything. Instead, it just makes him feel more motivated to listen to more albums, to want to help these bands get big. 

He thinks it’s about time he has a chat with his band.

.

“I can’t lie,” Koushi says as he walks into the room a couple of days later, “I’m a little surprised. You’ve never called a band meeting before all official like this.”

Kiyoko nods. “Is everything all right? This seems oddly serious.” 

“Uh,” Tetsurou says. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

“Did someone die?” Daichi asks.

“Nothing like that, it’s just…” 

“You’re not sure you want the band to continue,” Kiyoko finishes.

“Shit,” Tetsurou whistles. “You are a mind reader. But it’s not for sure or anything, it’s just - I wanted to talk to you guys. See how you were feeling.”

“I,” Daichi says, “think that the band isn’t doing you any favors these days, Tetsurou. It doesn’t seem like your heart is in music recently. So if it’s holding you back…” Daichi shrugs. “Maybe it’s time for you to move on.”

“It might be nice to do something else,” Kiyoko adds. “I’ve been thinking about a change, anyways. Perhaps I could finally even get a pet. I’ve been holding off on getting one because I did not think that I would be home long enough to take care of it, but in this case…”

“I’ve been thinking about becoming a background dancer,” Koushi says. “I think I could pull it off, yeah?”

Tetsurou blinks, looking back and forth between the three of them. “You guys… you’re all really okay with this?”

Daichi and Koushi look at each other. Koushi gives Daichi a look that conveys something like hesitation, but Daichi scowls and elbows him, mumbling something that sounds like  _ just do it already _ , and Koushi sighs. “Fine. Right,” he says, turning to look at Tetsurou. “We know that you’re in love with Kenma.” 

Tetsurou chokes. On what, he’s not sure - probably his own spit - but he coughs in a manner that’s wholly unattractive and sputters until he’s finally able to catch his breath again. “What,” he chokes out, “the fuck.”  _ How the hell do they know? What the hell is going on?  _

“It’s fine,” Daichi says. “Not like any of us can judge.” He tosses a soft smile over at Koushi, who grins back, reaching over to take Daichi’s hand. Kiyoko’s smile is similarly knowing, and Tetsurou thinks, _so my entire band is gay. Of course it’d end up like this._ Not that he’s complaining, though - it feels rather reassuring instead. Daichi finishes, “But we know that you - or well, Kenma mostly - don’t want to be in the spotlight for it. So if that’s the case, then we’re not gonna hold you back. Or ourselves, anymore. We think that you should go for it.” 

“Ah,” Tetsurou says weakly. He feels that there are tears in his eyes, but he doesn’t care to hold himself back anymore. He pulls the three of them into a hug, letting his tears flow and his sniffles free. “I love you guys,” he bawls into the hug. “All of you. You deserve to be happy, too.”

“We will be,” Koushi says, ruffling his hair. “It’s you that we’re worried about.”

“I’m gonna do whatever it takes,” Tetsurou says, and then, “but shit. What if he doesn’t love me back?”

Koushi snorts, and even Kiyoko gives a quiet little giggle. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” she says. “Just trust us.”

“What she means to say,” Koushi says cheerfully, “is that both of you are very obvious. Kenma isn’t really that obvious about most things, but about this…”

“She was trying to say it in a nicer way,” Daichi says, elbowing Koushi. 

“Tetsurou doesn’t need nice! He needs someone to tell him to stop being so thick-headed and just fuckin’ go for it already!” There’s a feral look on Koushi’s face. “The pining part of this incredibly weird love story needs to end already!”

“He’s got a point,” Kiyoko says, sounding unapologetic.

“Okay, okay, enough,” Tetsurou says. “We have other things to talk about, god. Like how many more shows are we doing? When are we announcing it? How are we announcing it so that everyone doesn’t completely freak out? How are we telling the label - and Bo,  _ god - _ ” 

“Aw,” Koushi says with a pout, “but talking about this is so much more fun.”

Tetsurou hits him with a pillow. “We can talk about it again after,” he says, though. 

As they talk, Tetsurou finds that his chest feels a million times lighter at just the idea of it: of being free - of being with  _ Kenma.  _ It’s something he’s never let himself entertain before. He imagines rolling over in the morning to see Kenma’s hair, splayed out against the pillows, kissing Kenma’s forehead gently before he leaves for work, cooking dinner for Kenma. It’s disgustingly romantic and domestic and - 

God, Tetsurou had never known that he was a romantic on the inside. His family had left him so fucked up, believing that he had no idea how to love. But loving Kenma comes naturally to him. He’s well aware that he’ll still have to work for it - just as he’s going to have to try to get Kenma to forgive him for being such an asshole to him about the Catfight breaking up thing (especially ironic given that Tetsurou’s dissolved his own band as well). But he’s more than willing.

He’s prepared to fight, to do whatever he has to. He’s ready now.

.

The last few shows feel even more bittersweet, because they don’t announce that they’re breaking up beforehand. Tetsurou tries to give all the heart he has left to the performances. He’s enthusiastic, engaging the crowd, yelling out the lyrics with all of what’s left of him. He greets fans afterwards with more vigor than ever. The autographs he signs are heartfelt and honest, telling them how much he appreciates their support and them as people. He does all he can.

And then, the day the news drops to the public, he calls Lev Haiba. 

“I need your help,” he says. “Do you know where Kenma lives?” It occurs to him suddenly that he’s never been to Kenma’s actual house. They’ve only been together on tour, at events, at parties, always crashing on a bus or in a hotel. It’s kind of strange, considering how long Tetsurou’s known him and how well Tetsurou knows him.

“Oh my god,” Lev says. “Is this a stalker?! How’d you get this number?”

“Wha - Lev, no. It’s Tetsurou. Kuroo.” 

“Tetsurou!” Lev says. “Wait, why are you calling? Shouldn’t you know where Kenma lives? I mean, can’t you just ask him even if you don’t? I know you have his number! He called you  _ all  _ the time when we were on tour!” 

“I can’t ask him,” Tetsurou says, gritting his teeth. Maybe calling Lev wasn’t the best idea he’s ever had.

“Well, why not?”

“I just can’t, Lev. Do you know his address or not?”

“But why can’t you?”

“ _ Lev _ .”

“Fine! I guess I can give it to you! But I want a full explanation later on.”

Tetsurou promises him an explanation, knowing full well that he won’t give him one, and finally, finally, gets Kenma’s address. He stares at the Chicago address and braces himself for an over 12 hour drive. But Kenma’s worth it. Honestly, Kenma’s worth all of this and more. 

He stocks up for the road trip: crackers and nuts and candy and all the unhealthy snacks that can fuel him through a nightmare drive, and he sets off, with his GPS directing him to the house of Kenma Kozume: a house on the outskirts of Chicago. 

It’s a long drive. His phone buzzes with texts throughout it that Tetsurou checks at his rest stop breaks:  _ You’re gonna be fine,  _ from Koushi,  _ Good luck I guess  _ from Daichi,  _ I’m glad you’ll finally have found your happiness  _ from Kiyoko. Even Koutarou:  _ DAICHI SAYS YOUR GOING TO SEE KENMA???? GLUCK BRO _ . His spelling and grammar is atrocious as ever, but Tetsurou smiles nonetheless. He’s a good friend. Always has been.

The long drive also means that Tetsurou has a lot to think about. He goes through every possible scenario: Kenma rejecting him, Kenma saying he doesn’t want to be friends with him anymore, Kenma laughing at him, Kenma not being there because Lev’s a complete fucking idiot and it’s someone else’s house. He spends less time dwelling on the positive outcomes. At this point, he’s just afraid to get his hopes up only for them to be dropped. 

By the time he pulls up to the neighborhood of tiny houses, he feels his heart beating at a million miles per hour. He sits in the car for a second, squeezes his hands into fists.  _ You can do this _ , he tells himself.  _ You’re fine. You have to take this chance. For Kenma. Kenma’s worth it.  _ It’s the constant mantra playing over and over again in his head.

He finally forces himself to get out of the car and slowly, slowly, make his way to the door to give it two firm knocks.

At first, there’s no response. An entire minute passes, Tetsurou’s heart thundering in his ears, and Tetsurou is about to spin on his heel and leave.  _ God, this was a bad idea anyways, what was I thinking, of course he doesn’t want to see me, why would he  _ \- 

But then the door swings open, and Kenma Kozume is standing on the other side, staring at Tetsurou with big eyes.

_ Wow, Lev was actually right,  _ is Tetsurou’s first thought, but his second is  _ holy shit.  _ Tetsurou too often forgets exactly how breathtaking Kenma actually is until Kenma’s standing right in front of him. And he’s more breathtaking now than ever, after a year apart: his hair long, the entirely dark strands framing his face, the rest pulled up into a bun. His eyes are as intense and golden as ever as they concentrate on Tetsurou, searching. His lips are thin and flat, drawn out in something like confusion, and his nose turns up at the end which is one of the cutest fucking things Tetsurou’s ever seen, and Tetsurou is in love with him. So, so in love with him.

And apparently he’s finally about to tell him that.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou exhales, trying to get his thoughts together.

“Tetsurou,” Kenma says measuredly. He’s still angry, then - it’d make sense. Still, it stings not to hear his nickname, to hear the name that everyone else calls him instead. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s a valid question,” Tetsurou says, makes himself keep breathing. It’s too easy to lose his breath around Kenma. “And the answer is… well, I’m guessing you saw the news.”

“Yes. I saw the fucking news.” Kenma’s voice is icy, venomous. Tetsurou’s never been on his bad side like this before, and really doesn’t ever want to be on it again. Kenma is  _ terrifying  _ when he’s angry. “And I think it’s complete bullshit. What, you’re going to guilt me to hell and back for daring to break up my band, but when you do it it’s completely fine? That’s  _ bullshit _ .”

Tetsurou feels his face twist into a frown. “No, you’re right. You’re completely right.”

“At least you acknowledge it,” Kenma bites back. “So why the hell are you here? You’re the last person I want to see right now.”

“Because… because you’re the only person I want to see right now. The only person I want to see most of the time, honestly,” Tetsurou manages, but then stops himself and sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, first - is there anything else you want to say to me? Because I owe you that. You should speak first.”

“You’re an asshole,” Kenma says immediately, and Tetsurou can’t help but wince at his lack of hesitation. “You’re an asshole, and I can’t believe you didn’t reach out to me for an  _ entire year.  _ I thought you were better than that. I thought… I thought we were better than that.” His voice cracks a little bit, but he scrunches his face up and then flattens back out his expression, clearly refusing to let himself cry. “I can’t think of anything else to say right now. But I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” Tetsurou says. “Am… can I say something?”

“I guess.” 

“You’re right,” Tetsurou starts out earnestly. “You’re right. I’m an asshole. I’m also the world’s biggest idiot. When you announced that Catfight was breaking up, I was angry. Because I thought you were wasting your potential, sure, but also because - well, because I didn’t like the thought of touring without you, you know, of being without you. And finally, because I didn’t understand what you were talking about. I didn’t get why you’d want to dissolve the band or to leave the music scene. I had no idea what could be worth giving up everything for. I was feeling a lot of the same things, though. I couldn’t find the right words to say in my songs. And honestly, I didn’t even want to write songs anymore. I was tired of performing. But I figured there was no other way.” He pauses, his eyes searching the ground. This next part is a little embarrassing. “But then... I talked to Kei’s brother.”

“The one whose band went downhill after he was caught with a guy?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “The one that was caught making out with one of his band members. And then when they were asked about it, they said they were dating, and that caused them to drop out of the scene and their band to fall apart. Well, anyways, he works in a music store now, and I accidentally went there to try to find inspiration. I talked to him for a little bit, and despite everything that had happened, he seemed weirdly happy. And then.” Tetsurou inhales. “And then, I asked him if it was worth it. If giving up everything to be with his boyfriend - now husband - was worth it. And he said yes.”

“As touching as this is, I don’t see how this is related to you.”

“Because I was in a similar situation,” Tetsurou says. “There was - is someone I love, someone that I want to be with. More than anything. But until recently, I didn’t know that it was possible. But then I thought about it, and I still want to be involved with music. I’m not giving it up completely. I want to be able to help others achieve their musical dreams, kind of the way I tried to help you and Catfight. I realized, though, that my time being in a band… well, it’s getting old. I’m getting old. I’m thirty already, holy shit. Too old to be living the same old tour lifestyle, too old to... “ He inhales. “Too old to give up a life with the person I love when we’ve been dancing around each other for almost a decade now.”

“Kuro,” Kenma says, softly, and Tetsurou’s heart flutters.

“Kenma,” he says, just as soft. “I’m a complete idiot, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for getting angry at you. I’m sorry for not saying anything for the past year. I just… I didn’t know how to reach out after all of that. But I missed you so much, every single day, and I... “ He musters up every cell of bravery inside of his body. “I love you. So much.” 

Kenma stares at him.

His eyes are big, searching Tetsurou’s face, probably attempting to discover if Tetsurou’s words are real. Tetsurou gives him a wide-eyed, sincere gaze in response - it’s the truth. It’s the truest thing that Tetsurou’s ever spoken in his entire life. He can feel his heart picking up speed. This might be the most pivotal moment of his entire life: waiting for Kenma’s response, waiting to hear if Kenma feels the same way, or if this entire thing between the two of them has been a completely different experience for him. In mere seconds, his life will change forever. 

Kenma steps forward, and then, steps straight into Tetsurou’s chest.

A little bit bewildered, Tetsurou puts his arms up, then wraps them around Kenma’s back as Kenma’s hands fist into his shirt. “You’re so stupid,” he mumbles into Tetsurou’s heart. “I can’t believe you.”

“So… what kind of answer is that? Yes? No?” 

“What do you think?”

“I… honestly, I’m not sure?”

“Shit. You seriously didn’t know.” Kenma steps back a little bit, his expression suddenly amused. “Shouhei kept telling me that I was being too obvious.”

“Kenma,” Tetsurou groans, burying his face into Kenma’s hair, praying to every god out there that he’s not misreading this situation. “I need you to say it clearly. I’m an idiot. Please.”

“I love you,” Kenma says, and it’s the most beautiful three words Tetsurou’s ever heard. He wants to hear them again, and again, and again - he thinks he could die happy listening to those words. His touch is tender and his voice soft as he reaches up to touch Tetsurou’s face. “Ugh, don’t cry. Was my confession that bad?”

“No,” Tetsurou says, laughing through his hiccups and tears. “No, of course not. I’m just so happy, Kenma. This is everything I’ve wanted for so long, but I never thought I could have - I never thought I would - I never thought we would both be free from our bands and from the spotlight and just. Be able to be together. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“This is real, Kuro, I promise,” Kenma tells him. “But I have to admit, I’m still a little pissed at you.”

“Hm,” Tetsurou hums. “There’s gotta be some way I can make it up to you…”

Kenma tilts his head up, his eyes fixed on Tetsurou’s lips. “There might be one way.”

It’s far from the first time they’ve kissed. However, somehow, as Tetsurou kisses Kenma softly, cradling his face in his hands like Kenma’s the most precious thing he’s ever held, feeling Kenma lean up to hold onto him, it feels like the first time all over again. It’s the first time where he’s kissed Kenma and been purposely trying to show Kenma how much he loves him, while feeling Kenma’s love in return. He pulls Kenma close, certain he’s not able to keep the smile off his lips. It’s perfect. This is perfect.

And so, so worth it.

Kenma pulls back, his pupils a little bigger all of a sudden. “Come inside.”

“Hah, so fast? At least let me take you on a date first.”

Kenma huffs at him. “I’m not going to stand out here and kiss you on the street all day, Kuro.”

“I would. I’d kiss you anywhere, if it meant that it was you I’m kissing.”

Tetsurou finds a new thing to love about Kenma: the way Kenma’s cheeks turn a delicious pink whenever Tetsurou says anything remotely romantic. He gets the feeling that he should definitely do it more often, as Kenma frowns and says, “You got incredibly sappy incredibly fast as soon as we… wait. Are we dating?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou says immediately.

“You know, I didn’t even agree to it yet.” 

Tetsurou grins, presses a quick kiss to Kenma’s cheek as Kenma drags him inside. “I don’t plan on letting you go ever again.”

Kenma shoots him a tiny smile over his shoulder, then says, “It’s not going to be easy, you know.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Kenma pauses, “we’re still famous. Both of us. We still have fans that are gonna go crazy as soon as they hear about this. We’re going to get a lot of push back the second we go public. We can’t get married or anything like that. People will be shitty about it. It’s going to be tough.” 

“I mean, I’m not advocating that we immediately go public with this. But regardless, I’m mentally prepared.”

“We both have problems,” Kenma says.

“We can work through them together.”

“Kuro,” Kenma says, leaning against his chest again. The tiny display of affection makes Tetsurou’s heart swell. He glances around at the room he’s led Tetsurou into, his living room: simple, with a couch and a TV and far too many gaming systems. It’s so endearingly Kenma, down to the simple decor and the far too many Doritos bags on his coffee table. Tetsurou walks over and picks one up.

“You haven’t been eating healthy,” he says, tone accusatory.

Kenma crosses his arms across his chest. “You’re gonna lecture  _ me _ ?”

“I haven’t gotten drunk in forever!” Tetsurou protests. “Since I heard about Catfight breaking up!” 

“Damn.” Kenma stares at him, his gaze tender. “I’m… glad to hear that.”

Tetsurou shakes his head. “It was a bad coping mechanism in the first place. It never ended up making me feel that much better.” He takes a deep breath. “I… still want to. Every time I get upset, or nervous. I want something to numb the emotions. But I’m gonna keep trying.” He smiles slightly. “Which means you should try to eat healthier,” he says, poking Kenma’s nose. 

“Hm.” 

He’s so cute, Tetsurou thinks, staring at Kenma unabashedly. He’s adorable, and he’s Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou’s  _ boyfriend.  _ God, he thinks back to the first time he’d seen Kenma, in the crowd at a Neko show. Who could’ve guessed he’d be making eye contact with the love of his life? Certainly not him, given that he hadn’t even known he had liked guys at the time. But things had most definitely turned out for the best. 

He steps forward and presses their lips together again, hungrily, his hands making their way into Kenma’s hair. He pulls the hair tie out of Kenma’s hair and lets it tumble around Kenma’s shoulders. “Beautiful,” he whispers. 

Kenma’s face turns red. “Shut up.”

_ So easily flustered,  _ Tetsurou thinks with a grin. But it backfires when Kenma looks up at him with those gorgeous golden eyes of his and says, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It’s not even that big of a compliment, but Tetsurou’s heart keeps skipping beats and he can feel his face heating up. “I- I mean - I guess that’s true - “

Kenma laughs quietly as he pulls Tetsurou with him to the couch, settling down on his lap. Looking at him, at this new brightness in his eyes, Tetsurou knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Kenma is going to be the death of him. But he’ll die happily.

Later that night, Tetsurou fires off a text to his former band members:  _ thx 4 ur support. im now a taken man.  _

_ Cant say I didnt see this coming, _ Daichi says,  _ but congrats. _ Koushi just replies  _ FINALLY,  _ and Kiyoko just says,  _ Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be happy together.  _

He falls asleep that night in Kenma’s bed with Kenma curled up on his chest, Tetsurou’s arm around Kenma’s waist. For the first time ever cuddling with Kenma, the thoughts in his head aren’t wistful, aren’t “I wish I could have this forever.” Instead, he looks down at Kenma and thinks,  _ Finally.  _ The warmth that fills his chest is entirely new. 

He could certainly get used to this.

.

Tetsurou doesn’t want to leave Kenma’s place, he thinks the next day when he wakes up with the warmth of Kenma’s head on his chest, of Kenma’s body pressed against his. He presses a kiss to Kenma’s forehead and mumbles, “Let’s move in together.”

Kenma’s eyes open slowly, a slightly grumpy look on his face - probably at being woken up before his preferred rising time of 1 PM. “It’s been less than a day.”

“I don’t want to live twelve hours away from you,” Tetsurou says, kissing his cheek and then his nose. “I don’t want to only see you every few weeks. Besides, I don’t have a new job yet. I could start looking for something in this area...” 

“Do you even know what you want to do?”

“I don’t,” Tetsurou says. “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe something along the lines of what Bo’s doing right now - y’know, working on his own record label, helping smaller bands. I’ve had my time in the limelight. Maybe it’s time I help other people get there.”

Kenma sighs. “It would be nice. Definitely better than working in retail.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?! Holy shit, Kenma.”

“Shut up. I didn’t graduate from university. It’s not like I can get a job that requires a degree.”

“Oh my god. I’m trying to imagine you as a friendly, happy retail worker. Did anyone take pictures?! Please tell me they did.”

“It was awful, and no one did. Honestly made me hate the public. I quit like two days before you showed up. I’ve been on the lookout for something new now.”

“Awwww, you mean I missed the opportunity to see you in action?!”

“Ugh. Stop. Shut up.”

“Nah, never,” Tetsurou says, gently kissing at his neck. “You’ve officially obtained a lifetime subscription to my love. Which means you get this all the time. All the teasing and kisses and love you could ask for.”

“...you’re embarrassing, you know.”

“Hey, now that we’re both out of work, we should start something together. Our own record label or somethin’. Put Bo out of business. We would be the biggest power couple the world has ever seen.”

“We’ve been together for one day,” Kenma reminds him flatly.

“But we’ve been hooking up for years,” Tetsurou points out. “Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“And yet you still didn’t realize I was interested in you until today, stupid.”

Tetsurou grimaces. He has a point, after all, even though Tetsurou doesn’t want to admit it. “I thought you just thought I was hot or something.”

Kenma just stares at him. “We were on tour. If I wanted to hook up with someone hot, I had plenty of other options.”

“Are you saying I’m not the hottest one on tour?!” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Because,” Tetsurou says, stroking his cheek fondly, “I always thought that you were the hottest one on tour.”

“Well, I mean. Wakatoshi’s muscles…”

“ _ Kenma!” _

Kenma’s giggling now, actually  _ giggling _ , and his quiet laughter is enough to make Tetsurou freeze up a little bit. It should be illegal for anyone to be so adorable and attractive and talented all at once, he thinks. “I’m just saying,” Kenma says. “Still, I was exclusively hooking up with you for… ever since we started hooking up.”

“...only for then?”

Kenma shrugs. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is that we literally cuddled after sex and you didn’t realize my feelings weren’t platonic.”

“I thought you were just a cuddly person!”

“Kuro.”

“...platonic cuddling?”

Kenma just stares at him in response, his face deadpan. Tetsurou can’t help but laugh. Kenma does have a point, after all. “Okay, fine, I’m a fuckin’ idiot. But we knew that.”

“Yeah. We did.”

“Hey, you weren’t supposed to agree with that! But still. We should move in together.”

Kenma’s mouth twists up the slightest bit. “We can talk about it,” he says, leaning over to give Tetsurou a tiny kiss before he pulls back. “It’s not going to happen immediately. Now, are you going to let me sleep a little bit more? Cause if you’re gonna wake me up at absurdly early times every day, this definitely isn’t gonna work out.”

“It’s 9 AM.”

“Absurdly early.”

Tetsurou chuckles again, brushing Kenma’s hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. “Fine, fine, I’ll let you go back to sleep. I’m gonna go make breakfast.” 

“You mean you’re going to pour cereal into a bowl.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I outgrew my cereal only phase a long ass time ago. I’m gonna cook you the best damn breakfast you’ve ever had.”

“Okay,” Kenma mutters, sounding doubtful but burrowing back down into the bed anyways. 

“Hey,” Tetsurou says, hesitating at the doorway. Kenma blinks up at him, only his head visible from where he’s hidden under the covers. Tetsurou feels his expression soften at the sight of him - still so adorable and young-looking despite the fact that he’s almost out of his twenties. God, he’s never felt anything close to the euphoria that swells in his stomach at the sight of his boyfriend.. And now, he’s sure that he’ll never this way about anyone else on the planet. His mouth turns up into a smile. “I love you.”

“I know,” Kenma says. “You told me yesterday. Many times, might I add.”

“Rude. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget, y’know.”

Kenma’s eyes twinkle with mirth. “I don’t think I could ever forget. But… I love you too. Though you should know that already.”

“Don’t worry, I do,” Tetsurou says, the degree of happiness in his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. He slips out of Kenma’s bedroom and into Kenma’s kitchen, where he immediately turns to the fridge in search of something to make for the two of them. However, what he finds in his fridge is… only Mountain Dew, a couple of tubs of ice cream, a half-rotten apple, and a tub of cream cheese. Not even a carton of milk or eggs. He can’t help but sigh. “How the hell does this boy survive,” he mutters under his breath, and then, “Well, guess I’m going to the grocery store.” 

He can’t even bring himself to be that upset, though. Not with Kenma’s happy face behind his eyelids and his “I love you” ringing in his head and the idea of forever cementing in his mind. 

They have a long way to go, that’s to be sure. They both have things to work through, as well as, well, ‘coming out’ to the people in their lives, friends and families and maybe even eventually the public. They have to build a new life after ending their previous one, this time together. There’s still a lot that Tetsurou has to learn about Kenma, and a lot Tetsurou has to tell Kenma about himself, about his past and himself. Tetsurou’s not expecting things to go perfectly or even smoothly. 

But as he opens up the maps website on his computer to search for the nearest grocery store, Akiteru’s words echo in his head.

_ It’s worth it.  _

Tetsurou can’t help thinking that, for Kenma, for  _ them _ , it most definitely will be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is - the last /real/ chapter of the story! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you once again for your lovely comments. The epilogue will be coming next week!  
> I know there's a lot of side stories that haven't been wrapped up. Some of them will be wrapped up in the epilogue, and others of them I'll be writing spinoffs for (for example, the Oikawa side story, since it's long and complicated).   
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, and thank you all so much again for sticking with me! I hope this makes up for the pain of last chapter.


	12. Epilogue

'Cause your moonlit backseat  
Always leaves me somewhere inside  
The softest part of my mind  
And keeps me

Powerless tonight  
All I am is losing track of time  
Tell me why  
You're the only one that makes me  
Powerless tonight

\- _Powerless,_ Waterparks

* * *

_ Two Years Later _

  


Tetsurou wakes to the sound of a loud, insistent meowing at his feet. 

  


“What the fuck,” he mutters under his breath. Gently, he kicks at the other set of feet under the covers, resulting in a tiny murmur of “What?” into the blankets from his boyfriend. 

  


Tetsurou rolls his eyes. “I thought you were supposed to put out food for Shiro last night.”

  


“I did.”

  


“Mm, then why is he in here meowing?”

  


“Because he’s evil incarnate. Put him out and come back to bed, will you?”

  


There’s a tone of pleading in Kenma’s voice that Tetsurou’s always been too susceptible to. He mutters a couple of curses as he walks over to the doorway, picking up Shiro and setting him back outside. Glancing down at the cat, he says, “Don’t wake up Kenma.”

  


Shiro blinks at him, unimpressed. Tetsurou sighs. “You have food. You have a whole fucking playground that Kenma set up for you the other day. You have free roam of the entire apartment. Can’t you find something to do?”

  


Shiro looks up at him with those wide, innocent eyes - eyes that are far too similar to the wide, innocent eyes that one particular person tends to give him when Tetsurou’s annoyed at him. It makes it far too difficult for Tetsurou to be angry. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Go do something. I’ll come give you attention in like an hour, okay?”

  


“Kuro,” comes Kenma’s voice from their bed again. “What’s taking you so long? Get back in bed already.”

  


There have never been more tempting words, Tetsurou thinks to himself as he pushes the cat out, closes the door, and heads back into his own personal paradise. Kenma blinks up at him sleepily from the bed, and as soon as he lays down, Kenma’s all over him - head on his chest, arms curled around him, legs pushing in between Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou blinks at him, but gives him a smile and a slow, lazy kiss, his hand creeping up Kenma’s back. Kenma kisses him back with a little more determination this time. He starts to roll over, climbing on top of Tetsurou with a certain evil glint in his eyes that Tetsurou’s become far too familiar with. Tetsurou’s about to really get into it when - 

  


_ Meow. _

  


Kenma ignores it, of course, shaking his head before he leans back down to kiss Tetsurou again, then moves his mouth down to nip at Tetsurou’s neck. But then another meow, this one even more louder and insistent, pierces through the air, followed by a crashing sound from outside of the room. Kenma groans and rolls off of Tetsurou. “That fucking cat.”

  


“It’s probably for the best,” Tetsurou says soothingly, stroking a hand through his hair. “We have a meeting in two hours.”

  


“I don’t know why you keep scheduling meetings so early.”

  


“It’s a personal vendetta to get you out of bed before noon,” Tetsurou tells him. “Or, more likely, the person didn’t have any other free time available, so that’s what I went with. I’m gonna go make some breakfast and see what that cat has destroyed this time.” He presses a light kiss to Kenma’s lips. Kissing Kenma is one of the few things that will never get old, in Tetsurou’s opinion. He’s pretty sure he could do it for forever.

  


“Fine,” Kenma says with a yawn. “Gonna sleep for ten more minutes.” 

  


It’s a lie, Tetsurou knows. Kenma will say that he just wants ten more minutes, but he won’t bother even setting an alarm. Then Tetsurou will have to go into the room and scoop him up into his arms and fucking carry him to the closet to make him get dressed. Kenma will grumble for a good ten minutes before he puts on the same thing he puts on every single day: black pants, a hoodie that’s too big for him (typically stolen from Tetsurou, even though Kenma defends it by saying that now they live together, what’s Tetsurou’s is Kenma’s now too). Kenma will keep grumbling until Tetsurou leaves, at which point Kenma will come trudging down the stairs a couple of minutes later. If Tetsurou’s still making food, Kenma will come up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tetsurou’s waist and burying his head into Tetsurou’s back. And Tetsurou’s chest will fill with all the happiness that hasn’t dissipated a single bit since they started dating.

  


Thinking about what’s to come is enough to fill him with enough motivation to trudge down the stairs and start making breakfast. They have a pretty full day ahead of them, after all.

  


.

  


“You need to put more emotion into this line,” Kenma explains to the guy sitting in front of them, his voice soft and even. “This is supposed to be the climax of the song, right? But no one’s going to be able to tell it’s the climax if you’re not giving it everything you’ve got. You have to convince the audience.”

  


“Hm,” the guy says, stroking his chin. “Yeah, well, I guess you’ve got a point or something. I just get too in my head sometimes. I’m too worried about sounding perfect, y’know?”

  


“I think everyone gets a little bit of that,” Kenma says. “But you don’t want people to get bored while listening to the album.”

  


“God,” the guy says. “Shit, you really you think they will?” 

  


“Well, not if you take my suggestions.” Kenma’s voice is confident. It’s nice to hear, considering how, well,  _ not  _ confident Kenma had sounded when Tetsurou had first met him all those years ago. “Let’s take it from the top. Keep what I said in mind.”

  


As Kenma exits the recording studio, he gives Tetsurou one of his signature grumpy looks. “Don’t you have anything better to be doing?”

  


“Better than watching you?” Tetsurou raises a hand to his mouth, eyes comically wide. “Kenma, baby, there’s  _ nothing  _ better.”

  


“So you’re being a pervert.”

  


“I’m not creeping on random people! Just my own boyfriend! I feel like there can be exceptions made for that.”

  


“Sure,” Kenma says wryly. “Hey, I told Estelle in Studio 4 that I’d help her, but now Jason apparently needs me because he can’t follow the directions I’ve given him about a hundred times, so…”

  


“Yeah, I’ll head over there right now.” Tetsurou kisses him on the forehead, grinning to himself at the way that Kenma’s face turns red still, even after years of dating. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone off on Jason yet, to be honest. If this was Lev back in the day, you probably would’ve murdered him in cold blood already.”

  


“Yeah, well. I get paid not to murder Jason. I would get paid regardless of whether I murdered Lev or not.” Tetsurou laughs, and Kenma continues, “Lev texted me the other day, by the way, if you can call those horrid messages he sends texts. From what I understood, he says he’s on tour again and he’s coming to Chicago soon.” 

  


“Oh, is he now? Damn, you gonna meet up with him?”

  


“And - get this - Morisuke’s on tour with him.”

  


Tetsurou guffaws, his loud, super unattractive laugh that he reserves for only when he finds things super hilarious - such as Morisuke Yaku being forced to endure another entire tour with the likes of Lev Haiba, and this time it’s not even Tetsurou’s fault. “No. Fuckin’. Way.” 

  


“Yeah, seriously. Anyways, I told them we’d meet up with them when they came here. Despite my  _ many  _ reservations.”

  


“Sou coming too?”

  


“Yeah, probably. You know how he and Lev are. And now they’ve added their new lead singer and drummer into the mix.” 

  


“Yuuki and Tamahiko, right? They bringin’ them?”

  


“Guess so. Though, if they’re anything like the other two, I might have to bow out after the first hour or two.”

  


“I’d be impressed if you made it that long.”

  


“Ha, ha,” Kenma deadpans, staring up at him. Tetsurou looks down at him, finding himself a little bit in awe all over again: at the way Kenma’s face has become more mature looking over the years, but there’s still a little bit of roundness in his cheeks; at the way his eyes seem a little more bright; at the way he still wears his hair up in a ponytail, his earrings still in, up and down his ears. Tetsurou wants to kiss him, and he’s considering it, damn the unprofessionalism it’d show, when fucking Jason clears his throat. 

  


Tetsurou jumps back, patting Kenma’s shoulder before shooting a glare at an unrepentant looking Jason. “Have fun with that one,” he says with a laugh. “I’ll see you after work.”

  


“I’m gonna kill him,” Kenma grumbles. Still, he takes Tetsurou’s hand and gives it a quick squeeze before he heads off. 

  


.

  


He gets dinner with Koutarou and Keiji that night. Kenma has to stay late to finish working on Jason’s song, but he promises that he’ll join them after he’s finished. The restaurant is fairly nice, which tells Tetsurou that it was clearly not Koutarou who’d chosen the restaurant. He grins at Koutarou as he approaches. 

  


“You look good, man,” he says, giving Koutarou a quick hug. “Tour’s been treating you well.”

  


Keiji grimaces. “Only because he insists on working out in between every set,” he says with a sigh. “One of these days he’s gonna take his weights on stage.”

  


“Hey! I am not,” Koutarou protests, elbowing Keiji. “Are you sayin’ you don’t think my muscles look good?” 

  


“They look fine, Koutarou.”

  


“Fine?! Just fine?!  _ Keiji! _ ”

  


Tetsurou snorts, looking in between the two of them. It’s nice to see Koutarou and Keiji together again, to be honest. After all the shit with Full Soul had gone down, he’d been worried about them - especially considering the critique they’d gotten for their fourth album and the impact it’d seemed to have had on the two of them. But after just a few years, things had fallen back into place. They’d come back with a brand new album and taken the world by storm. This album was different than their own sound, but regardless, it had been a hit - multiple pop radio hits. And Koutarou and Keiji seem happier than ever.  _ Cozier  _ than ever as well, though Tetsurou is a little afraid to be the one to call them out on that. He’ll have to ask Kenma about it later. Kenma always seems to know these things before anyone else.

  


They sit down at their table, Koutarou slipping easily into the space beside Keiji, his arm falling back around Keiji’s shoulders. It’s a known fact that Koutarou Bokuto is a touchy man, even around random people that he’s never met before. Still, there seems like there’s something different about  _ this  _ kind of touch, about the familiarity behind it and the way his hand keeps squeezing Keiji’s shoulders. 

  


“Man,” Koutarou starts in, “things are weird these days on tour. It’s pretty much just us, Crowfeathers, White Foxes, and Powerhouse that are still toughing it out these days. I mean, Tooru’s still around, but hanging out with Bluecastle without Hajime and Makki and Mattsun  _ sucks _ . Someone has to bring Tooru down, y’know!” 

  


“You’re one to talk,” Keiji says wryly. 

  


“Well, that’s why I have you, isn’t it! And Akinori! Akinori’s always makin’ comments about me.”

  


“I suppose.” 

  


Tetsurou grins. “But hey, Tooru says he and Hajime are best friends again, huh? That’s gotta count for something.” 

  


“Yeah,” Keiji confirms with a nod. “Though I’m sure Hajime is not exactly happy with the amount of photos Tooru posts of him on social media.”

  


“His entire feed is just selfies of him with Hajime and Wakatoshi!” Koutarou says with a laugh. “I still can’t believe he and Wakatoshi are that  _ close,  _ after he spent all that time bitchin’ about how terrible of a person Wakatoshi is and how Wakatoshi thinks he’s better than everybody and all that shit.”

  


Tetsurou laughs. “God, me neither. He really pulled a complete one-eighty on that one. But now he and Wakatoshi are like inseparable whenever they’re on tour together. And Tooru’s constantly roping poor Wakatoshi into his ugly ass selfies.”

  


“Selfies are fun though!” Koutarou protests. “Hey, Keiji, we should take more selfies together!”

  


“Absolutely not.”

  


“Whaaaat? Why not? Our fans would love it! Every time I post a pic, they’re like, where’s Keiji, why isn’t Keiji in the pic! They’d probably cry forever if you actually took pics with me!” 

  


Tetsurou puts his chin in his hand, a little bit of a smile on his face as he watches the two of them bicker. It’s a comforting sound. Full Soul has become essentially like his own family at this point, given the amount of time he’d spent on tour with them and the amount he’s talked to them even after both of their bands fell apart, however temporarily one of the breakups was. 

  


A couple of minutes later, though, as they’re all poring through the menu, Koutarou gets an alert on his phone. “Holy  _ shit _ !” he yells, slamming his phone on the table.

  


Both Keiji and Tetsurou turn their heads to look at him. “Did something happen, Koutarou?” Keiji says in his calm, incredibly Keiji way. 

  


“Yeah, something happened!” Koutarou says emphatically. “Love won!” 

  


“Love won?” Tetsurou repeats, his eyebrows knitting together, and then it suddenly hits him why it sounds familiar. “Holy shit. You’re kidding.”

  


“Gay marriage is now legal in all 50 states,” Koutarou whoops, shoving his phone into Tetsurou’s face. “I just got the notification.” 

  


“Wow,” Keiji says, his expression unchanging but his eyes softening, especially as they keep flickering over to Koutarou. “I honestly didn’t see this coming. I wasn’t sure if that bill would ever pass.”

  


“Well, it did,” Koutarou says, crossing his arms, “and that means that this is clearly evidence that you should listen to me more often, Keiji!” 

  


“I do listen to you, Koutarou.”

  


Tetsurou can’t even listen to them. He drops Koutarou’s phone onto the table, causing both Koutarou and Keiji to startle and look at him, and he says, “I’m gonna do it.”

  


“Do what?!” Koutarou says. 

  


“I’m gonna marry Kenma,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m gonna…”

  


“You realize,” Keiji points out, “that gay marriage has been legal in Illinois, the state which you reside in, for almost two years now.”

  


“Yeah, but we’d only been dating for less than a year then!” Tetsurou protests. “But now, it’s been long enough, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire fucking life. Plus, it’d be symbolic. Like a celebration, in a way.”

  


Koutarou laughs loudly, though the expression on his face is joyous. Keiji says, “Well, I’m certainly not going to stop you. You two are a well-matched couple. And… I know that Kenma is very happy with you.”

  


Tetsurou nods at Keiji, and can’t help remembering back in the day when he’d thought that Kenma was in love with Keiji. It’s almost laughable now, thinking about how much Kenma loves him: how, in his little Kenma ways, he demonstrates it every single day. Though Kenma had once drunkenly confessed that he and Keiji had hooked up a few times. Still, looking at Keiji Akaashi, it’s not like Tetsurou can blame him, exactly. Kenma has good taste. (Thinking about it, he’s pretty sure that he himself is the most questionable part of Kenma’s taste.)

  


“You’re gonna get married,” Koutarou says, his voice sounding almost like a sob as he wraps one too-muscular arm around Tetsurou’s neck. “My bestest friends are gonna get married to each other!” 

  


“I haven’t asked him yet,” Tetsurou says, patting Koutarou’s back. “Save the freakout for the proposal, Bo. But you’re gonna help me plan out how to propose, right?”

  


Keiji gives Tetsurou a  _ look _ , too reminiscent of the one Kenma gives him - a  _ “are you kidding”  _ look - while Koutarou says, “Yes, yes, yes, of course, but he’s gonna say yes!” far too loudly. Tetsurou pats his back, but of course that’s about the time that Kenma shows up, confusion etched into his features as he approaches.

  


“Is he okay…” Kenma mumbles. 

  


“He’s fine,” Keiji says quickly. “Hello, Kenma. It’s been a while.”

  


“Hi, Keiji. Good to see you,” Kenma says, the slightly brighter tone in his voice indicating that he is very happy to see Keiji, before he turns his questioning glance back to Koutarou and then Tetsurou. 

  


Tetsurou nudges Koutarou off of him at last and beams at his boyfriend. “You hear the news?”

  


“Nothing that great,” Kenma says. “Did something happen?”

  


“Gay marriage is  _ LEGAL _ ,” Koutarou shouts loudly. He probably attracts the attention of every other person in the (fairly nice) restaurant, but Tetsurou can’t bring himself to care - he’s already basically shouted his sexual orientation into the void when he’d come public about his relationship with Kenma and faced all the pushback for that. 

  


Kenma blinks. “It’s already legal in Illinois,” he says mildly.

  


“That’s what I said,” Keiji says. 

  


“But it’s legal in the entire nation now!” Koutarou says. “It’s like, ubiquitously legal! Did I use that word right, Keiji?”

  


“You did,” Keiji says with a nod. “Congratulations.”

  


“That’s good to hear,” Kenma says, sliding into the booth next to Tetsurou and, when Tetsurou puts his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, leaning into him. 

  


Tetsurou presses a kiss to Kenma’s temple and whispers, “How’d it go?”

  


“It was shit,” Kenma says grimly. “But I’ll live.” He gives Tetsurou a look that asks what the hell all Koutarou’s excitement is about - probably realizing that Koutarou’s level of enthusiasm is just a little bit too high - but Tetsurou just shrugs in return. No way he’s letting Kenma in on this little secret.

  


“You two are so cute,” Koutarou says, coming around from behind to ruffle both of their hair. 

  


“Wait,” Kenma says carefully, “Bo, are you drunk?”   
  


“Drunk on  _ life _ ,” Koutarou says emphatically.

  


“Sit down,” Keiji says to him, tugging him down back into a seated position. “We’re going to get kicked out of this restaurant.”

  


“Wouldn’t be the first place Tetsu and I have gotten kicked out of together,” Koutarou says boastfully, and Tetsurou can’t help but wince at the memories of his earlier days, though he also has to smile a bit. Those were good days. Besides the convenience store incident, but that’s easily enough forgotten, in the face of the many good days on tour. 

  


Although sitting here, at the table with Kenma still leaning into him and Koutarou and Keiji beaming at them from across the table, he thinks it might as well be the good old days all over again. Or rather - the even better days.

  


.

  


Koutarou starts blowing up Tetsurou’s phone with texts the next few days. He sends links to videos of really elaborate public proposals, saying stuff like  _ “THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE!!!”  _ and  _ “KENMA WOULD LOVE THIS!!” _ . Tetsurou knows Kenma well enough at this point to know, though, that Kenma would not. Kenma’s not a fan of things that are big and loud and flashy. He’s become more comfortable with being public over the last couple of years, allowing Tetsurou to take his hand as they walk or leaning into Tetsurou’s arm as they sit together, but he still is fairly uncomfortable kissing Tetsurou in public, and with good reason. So Tetsurou cannot imagine that Kenma would be all that thrilled with a super public proposal. Unfortunately, far too many of Koutarou’s suggestions revolve around being ostentatious declarations of love.

  


So he calls Keiji.

  


“Keiji,” he says, “if someone was going to propose to you, how would you want them to do it?”

  


“Wow,” Keiji says flatly. “And here I thought that things with you and Kenma were going so well.”

  


“This is about Kenma, you jerk,” Tetsurou says. “I just thought that you’re a little more similar to Kenma than Koutarou and can help me think about what he likes, whereas every idea Bo has involved a whole ass symphony showing up in the middle of the street and rose petals raining down on us as I serenade him.”

  


Keiji gives a quiet laugh. “Kenma would hate that.”

  


“You’re telling me,” Tetsurou groans. “So that’s why I’m calling someone with sense.”

  


“You didn’t want to call Tooru?”

  


“Hell no. He’d probably want someone to propose to him on top of the Eiffel Tower, and Kenma would hate that too.”

  


“Fair. Well, you know Kenma better than I do, but I’ll give my advice nonetheless. I would go with something special and private. Somewhere no one is watching. Where it’s just the two of you. Maybe somewhere that you have a good memory together.”

  


“Hm.” He gives this some thought for a moment, searching through his memories with Kenma. There’s one that always tends to stand out, though: him and Kenma on that bridge, where despite everything that had been going on in his life, he’d felt completely at peace. It hadn’t been that far from Chicago, about five hours. A day’s road trip. “Keiji, you’re a genius.”

  


“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Keiji says, although his tone does sound a little bit happier. 

  


“Seriously, thanks. That’s a better idea,” Tetsurou says. “Much better than Bo's serenade ideas. Though I’m still considering a short serenade… a more private serenade…”

  


“I don’t think I need to hear this, Tetsurou.”

  


“Fine, fine. I’ll stick to thank you, then.”

  


“In return,” Keiji says, “if… a certain person ever decides that they want to propose, you should give him advice about what to do. No public serenades.”

  


Tetsurou laughs. He’s definitely referring to Koutarou; it’s far too obvious now. But he doesn’t really feel all that surprised. Koutarou speaks of Keiji with such a high level of reverence that he doesn’t speak of anyone else with. He’s happy for his friends, really. And he finds it’s much easier to be happy for other people when he’s so happy himself. “Will do. Hey, I’m gonna go call Nobuyuki now, since he’s the only person I know that’s actually proposed, but thanks again for your help.”

  


Nobuyuki is super happy for him. It’s obvious through the way he talks once Tetsurou tells him why he’s calling, and the way he says, “Finally, I won’t be the only married man in the group anymore.”

  


“Hey, speaking of, how’s Kira?” Tetsurou asks. 

  


“Going a bit crazy, as am I,” Nobuyuki says with a laugh. “Those terrible twos will really get you. But we have the most adorable kid on earth, so in a way I think it’s worth it.” 

  


“It’s true,” Tetsurou agrees. “And so photogenic. Those pics you post on Facebook…”

  


Nobuyuki says, “I know. But seriously, Tetsu, I’m happy for you. And I know that you’re going to be happy too.”

  


“Did you think it’d end up like this?” Tetsurou asks quietly. “When we first met Kenma all those years ago?”

  


Nobuyuki’s quiet for a moment. “No, I don’t think I would’ve guessed it,” he says finally. “But after you guys got closer, it became more obvious. The way you look at him… it’s something else. So I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. If you need any help with wedding planning, though, let me and Kira know.”

  


“You think he’ll say yes?”

  


“I think there’s a pretty high chance,” Nobuyuki says. “Approaching 100%.”

  


“Nerd.”

  


“You’re one to talk.”

  


Tetsurou finds himself smiling softly as he hangs up the phone. Domestic marital bliss, huh? That’s starting to sound far too appealing to him.

  


.

  


“We’re going on a road trip tomorrow.”

  


Kenma looks up at him, questions in his eyes. “We’re what?”

  


“Going on a road trip.”

  


“Very last minute,” Kenma hums. “What if I have plans?”

  


The good thing about living together is that Tetsurou knows Kenma’s schedule like the back of his hand, so he can just grin confidently and say, “You don’t.”

  


“I might.”

  


“But you don’t.” Tetsurou knows Kenma far too well at this point. If Kenma  _ actually _ had plans, he would’ve said something a long time ago, not led Tetsurou on like this. 

  


“Fine,” Kenma says flatly. “Where exactly are we going to go, though?”

  


“To the ends of the universe.”

  


“ _ Kuro _ .”

  


“It’s a surprise, baby! Am I not allowed to do romantic surprises anymore?”

  


“You were never allowed to do romantic surprises.”

  


“Kenma!” Tetsurou protests, but the mischievous look on Kenma’s face and the brightness in his eyes makes certain that Tetsurou can’t actually be upset at him. 

  


Despite Kenma’s grumbling, he still goes on the road trip the next day, lets Tetsurou lead him to the car and then present him with his favorite snacks that he’s prepared specifically for Kenma. Kenma gives him a suspicious glance. “What’s all this about?”

  


“It’s just me being nice to my boyfriend!” Tetsurou says, feigning offense. “What, am I not allowed to be nice? I’m a nice person, am I not?” 

  


“That’s debatable,” Kenma mumbles. Tetsurou knows better than to let Kenma’s sarcastic comments get to him: no, they’re indications of Kenma’s love, he knows, and those are the reassurances he needs now more than ever, as the ring feels heavy in his pocket and his heart races in his throat.  _ What if Kenma says no _ ? He won’t, Tetsurou reassures himself. He knows Kenma well enough now to know that Kenma loves him. They’ve discussed marriage before; Kenma had wrinkled up his nose, and said it wasn’t something he’d ever considered - until he met Tetsurou. It’d been an entire year ago now, but Tetsurou had blinked and said, “Well, what if I were to ask? Not now - at some point in the future, but - “

  


“I guess I’d consider your offer,” Kenma’d said, cryptic as ever, but there’d been something like happiness in his eyes. Enough for Tetsurou to consider it to be a possibility. 

  


And now he’s here - with the simple ring burning a hole in his pocket, a ring that he’d specifically picked because it reminded him of Kenma in its simplicity and golden gleam.  _ What if Kenma’s changed his mind in the past year? What if he doesn’t want this anymore?  _ But it’s ridiculous to think: they’ve only gotten closer over the years, only fallen more and more into a domestic pattern after moving in together and sharing their lives together, not to mention starting an entire company together. Nothing has changed. Kenma won’t reject him. 

  


At least, that’s what he tells himself.

  


“Kuro?” Kenma says, putting one gentle hand on top of his. His touch is loving. Tetsurou takes comfort in it.

“Yeah, I…” Tetsurou shakes his head to clear it and starts up the car. “Sorry. Just daydreaming a little bit, I guess.” 

  


Kenma leans over to press a tiny kiss to his cheek. Tetsurou’s breath catches in his throat - no matter how many years it’s been, how far they’ve come, how many times Kenma does it, Tetsurou will never stop being shocked by Kenma’s displays of affection. They’re small and precious and Tetsurou never wants to let them go. He makes himself breathe again and flashes a smile at his boyfriend - hopefully soon to be fiancé. “Let’s go, then.”

  


Kenma isn’t super talkative for most of the trip, but Tetsurou hadn’t really expected him to be. He knows from the way Kenma watches his surroundings that Kenma’s probably attempting to calculate where exactly they’re going. Still, there are no hints of recognition on Kenma’s face whenever Tetsurou glances over, and Kenma doesn’t say anything that indicates that he has any clue. After the third hour, though, Kenma says, “What, are we driving all the way to New York?”

  


“No,” Tetsurou answers. “We’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. I’m not driving you out in the middle of nowhere to kill you or anything.”

  


“When you say it like that, it sounds like you are.”

  


Tetsurou grins, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before he returns his hand to the steering wheel. “You caught me. All of this has been part of an elaborate plot to get you alone and drive you out to the corn fields so no one would find you.”

  


“If so, you could’ve gotten me alone a long time ago,” Kenma says boredly. “I’d hope you’d be a little more of an efficient serial killer than that.”

  


“Ah, sorry that my methods aren’t up to your standards.”

  


They finally make it there another hour later, and once they get out of the car, Tetsurou suddenly is a little afraid that Kenma won’t remember it, that he’d spent all this time driving up here only for the memory to be meaningful to only Tetsurou. But then Kenma turns to him, the recognition clear in his eyes. “This bridge,” he says carefully. “The one we came to during that tour with White Leopard. You… why are we here?”

  


Tetsurou extends a hand to him, which Kenma hesitantly takes, pulling him over towards the bridge. The sun is bright above them and the sky is a clear blue, as clear as Tetsurou’s certainty as he lets go of Kenma’s hand to kneel down and reach into his pocket for the ring.

  


Kenma doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Tetsurou with wide eyes as Tetsurou says, “I brought you here because this was the moment that I realized that it was you that made me feel at peace. I realized that I wanted to stay in that moment with you forever. I… admittedly I was kind of an idiot, because I didn’t realize I was in love with you back then.”

  


Kenma exhales through his nose, a tiny imitation of a laugh. “Of course you didn’t.”

  


“But it didn’t take me much longer to get there!” Tetsurou adds quickly. He can’t help the tears that start to prick at the corners of his eyes as he says, “Kenma, when I first met you, I had no idea where life was gonna take us. I fell in love with your voice first, the first time I listened to your EP. And then… over the next couple of years, I fell in love with the rest of you. With your sarcastic sense of humor, with your smile, with how you understand me like no one else, with how you make everything so much better just by being there, and eventually with your body as well.”

  


“Kuro,” Kenma grumbles, his face flaming red. 

  


“I just never thought I’d ever have a chance,” Tetsurou says, feeling the real tears flowing down his face now, dripping one by one. “I - I thought that you deserved better than me. And I thought that us being together was impossible, since we were both in bands and in the public eye. But then you woke me up out of that delusion. You snapped me back into reality, so that I could see all of the possibilities. There is no one who could do what you do for me, and I would never have gotten here without you. Kenma Kozume, I love you. I will always love you and only you. It’s always going to be you. And so, I want to ask you.” He holds up the ring, staring up at him with what he knows must be the most disgustingly loving gaze known to man. “Will you marry me?”

  


Kenma freezes for a second, and Tetsurou can’t help but have a flash of doubt. Maybe Kenma had changed his mind, after all. He’s about to start panicking when Kenma’s mouth opens the tiniest bit and Kenma finally says a soft, “Yes.”

  


“Yes?!” Tetsurou exclaims, ecstasy shooting into his veins. “Really, yes?”

  


“That’s what I said, isn’t it,” Kenma grumbles, but he’s smiling - Tetsurou can tell. Tetsurou jumps to his feet to slide the ring onto Kenma’s finger, marveling at how perfectly it fits, to press a kiss to the ring on Kenma’s finger and then to Kenma’s lips. Kenma pulls him in closer, snakes his arms around Tetsurou’s neck and Tetsurou puts his arms around Kenma’s back, pulling Kenma flush against him. The warmth that floods through Tetsurou’s body is unlike anything he’s ever felt. Pure euphoria.

  


He’s going to spend the rest of his life with this man. Maybe, given how his parents’ marriage had ended, Tetsurou should be a little more afraid. But he’s realizing more and more that he and Kenma are nothing like them. It hasn’t been easy, being with Kenma. They argue sometimes. At times, it seems like the whole world is against him. He’s posted photos with Kenma on social media only for people to flood the comments with slurs and homophobia. But he’s willing to work for it, and that’s, he thinks, where the difference lies. He’s not going to give up on them, on Kenma. Not ever.

  


They sit down on the bridge together, Tetsurou pulling Kenma to sit down beside him and wrapping his arm around Kenma’s shoulders. It’s absolute peace, Tetsurou thinks - knowing that the person he loves the most in the world is right here with him, and has just promised to spend the rest of his life with him.

  


“Kuro.”

  


“Hm?”

  


“This means you’re going to be even more embarrassing, doesn’t it?”

  


Tetsurou grins, rubs Kenma’s arm, his hand trailing down to rest on top of Kenma’s. The cold of the ring presses into Tetsurou’s fingers. It’s a wonderful reminder. “Yeah, it does.”

  


Kenma’s nose wrinkles up. “Gross,” he says, but he doesn’t pull away. 

  


And this time, Tetsurou doesn’t either.

  


.

  


Thankfully, choosing Kenma as the person he wants to marry means that the wedding planning process is relatively low stress. Both of them agree that they don’t want a big ceremony - just a quiet little affair with their friends and some of their family around them. Tetsurou’s pretty sure that Kenma wouldn’t care if it were just him and Tetsurou, but Kenma knows - as he always does - that Tetsurou does want a ceremony of some sort with people there. So they arrive at a nice little compromise. However, it becomes a little more complex when they start making a list and realize just how difficult it is to invite your friends when you’re in the band scene.

  


“I want to invite Wakatoshi,” Kenma says, “but it would be weird to invite him without the rest of his band, so we’d have to have Satori there too.” 

  


“What’s wrong with Satori?”

  


“He’d probably try to serenade us himself,” Kenma says, “even though he’s not the lead singer, and honestly the worst singer in their entire band.”

  


“At least we don’t have to worry about the drama of inviting both Hajime and Tooru anymore.” 

  


“Hey. You think Tooru’ll bring Wakatoshi as his date?”

  


“Hah. He might.” 

  


“If he does, we don’t have to worry about inviting Satori…”

  


They end up choosing far too many best men and groomsmen. Four best men: Koutarou, Morisuke, Keiji, and Shouhei, alongside Taketora, Daichi, Koushi, Nobuyuki, and Kiyoko as groomsmen. Kenma begrudgingly agrees to invite Lev and Sou to the wedding, but categorically refuses to make them groomsmen, despite Lev’s offer to be the ring bearer. Kiyoko gracefully accepts her position as the only female groomsmen, saying she’s always wanted to wear a suit, and Tetsurou can’t help but grin. He’d definitely picked the coolest band members possible.

  


For their bachelor party, it’s not quite as wild as some of the others they’ve heard about. First of all, they’re together: Tetsurou has no interest in going to look at half-naked men or women, despite his probable bisexuality. Kenma Kozume has officially ruined anyone else for him. And he’s completely certain that Kenma doesn’t want to look at anyone else either, so they opt for something a little more low key. 

  


They’re all packed into a room, playing a drinking game on the ground: just like the good old tour days. Taketora suggests that they play spin the bottle, which everyone flat out rejects: considering the grand majority of them are in a relationship, it seems like a recipe for drama. So they end up just playing King’s Cup, beer pong, and some other fairly cliche drinking games. It’s the most that Tetsurou’s laughed in a while - watching Koutarou keep losing at every game, even games of luck; watching Kenma get a little bit tipsy and snuggle up into him, as clingy as ever when he’s drunk; watching Morisuke get drunk and pissy and try to argue with him in a completely incoherent manner. Koutarou tries to get them all to sing a song with him, as if they’re some kind of a capella group. They all get a little bit too drunk and they’re loud and obnoxious and giggly and Kenma keeps trying to kiss him in front of an audience of all his closest friends, which he  _ very much  _ cannot bring himself to complain about but knows Kenma wouldn’t want if he was sober. All in all, though, it’s so much fun. A million times better than going to a strip club and pretending not to be intensely uncomfortable while missing his fiancé, like the completely whipped man he’s become. 

  


Everything passes in a blur. They decide not to try to reach out to Tetsurou’s mother, to just instead invite Tetsurou’s father and grandmother, the real family that Tetsurou has. It feels a little bitter that his grandfather, who’d passed away a year previous, won’t be able to attend, but from the few times he’d met Kenma, his grandfather been rather fond of him: of the way Kenma was happy to sit in silence with him and watch his weird history TV series. And of course, they invite Kenma’s parents: Kenma’s mother almost cries upon hearing the news, but happy tears. No one else, though - their homophobic uncles and lukewarm aunts can stay home. 

  


Tetsurou gets fitted for a suit, plans a decent reception, books a tiny venue. In between trying to work regularly and keep their business from falling apart and plan the wedding and communicate with people, Tetsurou finds himself becoming more than a little overwhelmed. It becomes obvious when Kenma burrows into his chest one day and mumbles, “I miss you.”

  


“M right here,” he mumbles into Kenma’s hair. 

  


“For now,” Kenma says. “But you’re going to fall asleep soon, and then I probably won’t see you all day tomorrow, so…” 

  


_ Ah.  _ Tetsurou winces. “Sorry,” he offers, his exhaustion evident even in his apology. “It’s just… I want the wedding to go smoothly, and it takes a lot of work… but it’ll be over soon. Then it’s just you and me, baby. Forever.”

  


“You don’t have to worry so much about the wedding being perfect, you know.”

  


“Mm? What do you mean?”

  


“It’ll already be perfect,” Kenma says, burying his face into Tetsurou’s chest - probably so Tetsurou can’t see the blush he’s sure is on Kenma’s cheeks. “Because… because it’s you and me.”

  


Tetsurou holds onto him extra tight that night. It’s true, though - he has a point. And it’s something Tetsurou needs to keep in mind more often, rather than worrying about each minor detail. It doesn’t matter how the little things go. What matters is he’s going to marry the love of his life, surrounded by the people he cares about. 

  


And then, finally, the day of the wedding rolls around. 

  


He has a minor freakout beforehand. Standing in his dressing room with Morisuke and Koutarou, he looks into the mirror and says, “I’m not good enough for Kenma.”

  


Morisuke elbows him.  _ Hard.  _ “Ouch,” Tetsurou yelps, looking down at Morisuke with a betrayed glare. “What the fuck was that for?”

  


“What the fuck are you talking about, more like?” Morisuke snaps. “You finally got with the love of your life after a fucking decade of annoying ass pining. You broke up your band to have a chance to be with him, and now you’re gonna throw it all away because of some dumb insecurity that doesn’t even make any fucking sense? No way.”

  


“Plus,” Koutarou adds, “he’d probably be really upset if you just left him at the altar, you know! Imagine how embarrassing that’d be! You guys would make headlines all over again! And Kenma would hate that so much!” 

  


Damn. Koutarou has a point. It’d be humiliating to leave him at the altar, but Tetsurou can’t help still feeling nervous. What if he walks out and Kenma realizes that Tetsurou’s not good enough for him? What if he realizes that Tetsurou is boring and had taken way too long to figure out that he’s in love with Kenma and had yelled at him or breaking up his band and - 

  


Morisuke elbows him again. “Stop being a dumbass,” he grumbles. He fixes Tetsurou’s tie and shakes his head at him as he says, “Just go marry him already. Don’t think about anything else.”

  


Don’t think about anything else. God, Tetsurou, he admonishes himself, it’s your damn wedding day, and here you are worrying about something stupid. Kenma loves you. He shows you that every day. He agreed to marry you. He knows what he’s doing. It’ll be fine. This is what he wants. And, just as importantly, this is what you want. More than anything.

  


He inhales deeply and attempts to clear his head. “Okay,” he says, a little more firmly. “Okay, I’m gonna go out there and do this.”

  


“Can’t believe it took you that long to get over yourself,” Morisuke mutters.

  


Tetsurou ignores him, though, giving his suit a final adjustment before he walks out the door. He takes a deep breath as he steps out into the aisle and - 

  


_ Oh.  _

  


Kenma is always beautiful. He’s beautiful when he wakes up in the morning, blinking sleep out of his eyes with a perpetually mildly grumpy expression; he’s beautiful when he catches Tetsurou’s eye across the room and gives Tetsurou a tiny smile meant just for him; he’s beautiful when something happens to annoy him and his nose crinkles up the slightest bit and his eyes narrow. But he is  _ especially  _ beautiful now as Tetsurou looks at him across the room. It’s almost as though there’s a halo of light surrounding Kenma’s face. Kenma looks up at him, that tiny smile decorating his lips again, and Tetsurou freezes.

  


He’s marrying the most beautiful man in the world. There’s no way in hell he should’ve gotten this lucky. 

  


He thinks back to his younger self - to how worried he’d been that he’d never be able to find someone to love - and he thinks  _ well, guess what? We made it.  _

  


Once he finally makes it to the altar, he takes one look down at Kenma and starts to tear up. This only intensifies when it’s Kenma’s turn to say his vows, since they decided he should go first, and he looks up at him and says, “You know, I guess I’m what every fan wants to be. I started out as just a simple fan of Neko, and now I’m here. But… Kuro. Tetsurou. I’m glad it was me you chose. I’m glad I got to know the real you. At this point, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re the person who… who knows me better than anyone, and the best person I know. And… I love you.” That part is barely audible to anyone but Tetsurou, but Tetsurou knows how Kenma feels about public displays of affection, and finds it immensely adorable - or he tries to through the tears already dripping down his face. “So my vow to you is to take you, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. To care for you and do my best to make you happy every day. Or more conventionally, I guess: I do.” 

  


Tetsurou slides the ring onto his finger and feels the sobs intensify a little bit. Morisuke nudges him, passing him a tissue - god, of course Morisuke would’ve predicted this. But he dabs at his eyes and makes himself say, “Kenma. You are - you’re everything to me. You’re the one who got me out of my funk, the person who makes me smile every day, my partner in business and life and everything. You’re the person who’s constantly driving me to do better, and I love you more than I ever thought I would be capable of loving anyone. So I vow to be the best I can for you. To be by your side every single day of our lives, even after death, because I’m pretty sure my ghost will find a way to seek you out. I vow to love you with every single part of me: everything about you. Or... I do.”

  


He hears the  _ “you may now kiss the groom”  _ and immediately surges forward, capturing Kenma’s lips in a kiss in which he tries to spill everything he hadn’t been able to say. Kenma’s kiss is just as warm and loving:  _ me too _ .

  


.

  


Tetsurou stands by the bar at the reception, watching with a bemused expression as Lev tries to get Kenma to dance some weird dance with him, much to Kenma’s obvious discontent. He feels his own smile grow a little bit as he thinks back to their first dance, just an hour or so ago: to seeing Kenma in his arms, hiding his face in Tetsurou’s chest to take all the attention off of him, to the way it’d felt to look down at Kenma and think,  _ this is my husband, this is the love of my life _ as the music swirled around him. He glances over at Morisuke, who’s ranting about Lev or something, then lets his gaze drift off to observe the rest of the dance floor.

  


Takahiro and Issei have joined Lev now, who’s also calling over Sou, Shouyou Hinata, and Taketora to try to start some stupid line dance. Over to the side, Daichi and Koushi are slow dancing, since the song is a slow song, actually, and not meant for a line dance. There’s a hint of mischief in Koushi’s expression as he talks about - well, whatever he’s talking about, but the look on Daichi’s face is a familiar fondness that makes Tetsurou’s chest ache. He can’t help but be happy for him. 

  


And to the side, there’s Kiyoko and - oh, shit. Hitoka Yachi from Crowfeathers?!

  


They’re dancing far too close for it to be friendly, their breaths basically intermingling and a very distinct blush on Hitoka’s face, but both of them looking incredibly happy. Huh, Tetsurou thinks. He’s happy for her though. Of all the people he knows, he thinks Kiyoko is one of the most deserving of happiness. 

  


Hajime’s talking to Satori (who they’d ended up inviting, and who had given a very messy toast) at a table, but his gaze drifts over to where Tooru is dancing with Wakatoshi, Wakatoshi’s eyes big but also warm where they’re fixated on Tooru. There’s a tiny, self-satisfied smile on Hajime’s face, like he’s happy for Tooru. Tetsurou smiles too. He’s glad one thing, at least, had worked out. 

  


Koutarou’s trying to drag Keiji over to the dancing crew, while Yukie eggs him on and Akinori gives them a clearly judgmental look. And then, there’s a tiny tap on his shoulder.

  


Tetsurou turns over one shoulder to see Kei standing there, his eyes on the ground. “I just wanted to say congratulations,” Kei says hurriedly before Tetsurou can say anything.

  


“Oh. Okay, well, thanks,” Tetsurou says, because it’s a little bit strange and he doesn’t know what else to say - honestly, he hadn’t even really been expecting Kei to say anything. 

  


But then Kei jumps in again. “And I’m sorry. God, I despise saying those words, but… I shouldn’t have discouraged you from pursuing anything. I just didn’t want any of you to end up in a position you regret. But… you’re happy together, or whatever. So I’m glad it worked out. I guess.”

  


“It’s fine,” Tetsurou says, shaking his head. “I’m not upset. I mean, how could I be? We got married. He’s mine forever now. I know you were just looking out for us. Which really, is so kind of you, to care so much for us - “

  


“For  _ Kenma. _ ”

  


“For both of us!” Tetsurou insists, grinning. “Oh, and when will I be getting an invitation to your wedding? I was hoping to put the save-the-date on the calendar already -”

  


“My wedding to who, exactly?”

  


Tetsurou casts a suggestive glance over at Tadashi, who’s talking excitedly to Tobio about something, his smile big. Kei mumbles something dark under his breath before he stomps off, his cheeks a little bit red, which makes Tetsurou think that he’d probably been spot on. Right after he leaves, though, the music changes, and suddenly Nobuyuki is beside him. 

  


“It’s your time,” he whispers loudly. “Remember? You put this on the requests list to serenade Kenma with.”

  


“Oh, shit, I did,” Tetsurou says with a laugh. “Fuck. Kenma’s gonna kill me.”

  


“Probably,” Nobuyuki agrees, mirth dancing in his eyes.

  


Still, Tetsurou has never been one to back down, so he takes the microphone that Nobuyuki offers and makes his way through the crowd to Kenma, who’s giving him a stinky eye already. It’s not enough to deter him nonetheless - he’d picked this song off one of his old albums specifically for this occasion, specifically because he’d written it about Kenma without even realizing that it was romantic as hell, a clear indication of his feelings. The song spills from his lips easily as he kneels down in front of Kenma, Kenma’s face still twisted up into a glare.

  


“You’re the worst,” Kenma hisses in between bits of the song. “Literally the most embarrassing person in the world.”

  


Tetsurou ignores him, continuing on with his song, pouring all of his love and emotion into the song as he gazes up at Kenma. Kenma -  _ his  _ Kenma, his husband, his inspiration, his muse, his partner, his everything. God, Kenma’s his husband now. He’ll never get tired of saying that.

  


The song finally comes to a close. Tetsurou steps forward before Kenma can get away, wrapping his arms tight around Kenma and burying his face into Kenma’s shoulders. The crowd around them starts to disperse, probably to give them a moment, and Kenma hisses, “That was awful.”

  


“Aw, baby, I thought you liked my performances.”

  


“I do,” Kenma grits out, “but not when they’re personal performances. Tell me you don’t have any other dumb shit planned.”

  


Tetsurou laughs into Kenma’s shoulder. “That was the dumbest of it. It’s all over now. I swear.”

  


“It better be,” Kenma gripes. 

  


“Hey, you didn’t think it was romantic at all? Not even in the slightest?”

  


Kenma sags, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe it was. Just a little bit.”

  


“I’ll serenade you once we get to the hotel room tonight, then. A personal serenade.”

  


“Don’t you dare,” Kenma says, thumping him lightly on the back, but it’s a weak threat. Though there is something adorable about Kenma’s weak threats. Tetsurou laughs, pressing a kiss to his head.

  


“Hey,” he whispers into Kenma’s hair. 

  


“Hey.”

  


“I love you.”

  


“I know, Kuro.”

  


“My husband,” Tetsurou says reverently, running his hand down Kenma’s back. “Mine.”

  


“Yours,” Kenma agrees. “And you’re mine.”

  


“Forever.”

  


The music swirls around them, and Tetsurou takes hold of Kenma again, pulling him back out to the dance floor. Everyone else is dancing as well, feet tapping against the tile floor, but Tetsurou can’t bring himself to look at anyone else.

  


Not when he’s got Kenma Kozume, the love of his life, his  _ husband,  _ in his arms, looking so content with his head against Tetsurou’s chest. 

  


And he doesn’t plan on letting him go ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! The actual last chapter. I'm kind of in disbelief.  
> This chapter was just a lot of sappiness and happiness because I love that for Kuroken, so uh, enjoy I guess?  
> And thank you all so so much for reading and for your support for this fic. All of you that commented, that shared it with your friends, that made content for it - I appreciate all of you more than words can say. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
> Please keep the comments up if you enjoyed this chapter!! And keep an eye out for spinoffs and other content in the future!


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